Driven Under
by Ruby Rosetta Red
Summary: UK version. Set at the end of season three. My interpretation of what happens to Mitchell. No spoilers, just a lot of supposition and guess work. First BH fic. Rated T for language. Epilogue is now up *COMPLETE*
1. Chapter 1

**Okay. My first Being Human fic. A one shot, set perhaps towards the end of Season Three, so a lot of supposition and guess work and interpretation. It was inspired by Seether's song of the same name, i seem to listen to them a lot when writing about Mitchell, the tone seems to suit him very well. All errors are my own, any mistakes are unintentional, just used to make the story go along. The characters of Being Human belong to the incredibly talented creators and writers. The original characters are my own.**

**All italics are Mitchell's thoughts. Please read and review thanks (and hopefully be nice :) )**

* * *

**Driven Under.**

He's the silent one amidst the chaos.

Elizabeth watches him. The ward isn't nicknamed Bedlam for nothing. There's a restlessness here that sets a person on edge. They pace, they moan, they cry and they scream. It's unsettling to the unsuspecting but he seems oblivious to it all. He sits curled up in a battered old armchair and stares into space. He wears the required uniform of a white t-shirt and white pants but his feet are bare. The lack of colour makes him all the more noticeable, his dark curly hair, badly in need of a comb, his pale olive toned skin, the dark stubble.

"Oh, I see you've noticed him" Elizabeth turns her head sharply at Callie Fletcher's voice. The red headed nurse is smiling almost knowingly at her.

"Who is he?" She isn't going to deny watching him because of course she has been. Callie looks through the window at him.

"His name is John Mitchell but to all and sundry he's just Mitchell" she replies. Elizabeth tests the sound of his name in her head.

"What's his story then?" She marvels at just how still he is. Apart from blinking, he doesn't move a muscle.

"He was brought in six months ago after suffering an acute psychotic break. He was ranting and raving about wolves and bullets and lots and lots of blood" Elizabeth glances sharply at her and she smiles ruefully.

"I know, but you get all sorts of stories here, you just learn to humour them" she confides and Elizabeth looks back at him. It's difficult for her to tear her eyes away from him, beneath the stubble and the dishevelment, he's very handsome.

"And now?"

"Now he barely says a word. He's on enough Haloperidol to stun an elephant so I suppose that helps. He's okay, pretty much harmless, does as he's told" Elizabeth folds her arms.

He doesn't look harmless; in fact she could imagine that once upon a time he could've been very dangerous indeed.

"Did anyone check out his story? I mean about the bullets and the blood?"

"Why? For the most part, what the patients claim to be or have done are just figments of their imagination" Elizabeth sighs.

* * *

In his head he can hear screaming. He can hear people begging for mercy. He can see their eyes as wide as saucers and smell their fear. They're terrified of him. He's evil, a curse, a scourge on the human race. He's cared for a few people, loved less. He's alone now. No one comes to see him in this hell hole.

Someone's idea of a sick joke.

His eyes shift as someone new moves across his line of vision. He can smell her; her perfume is different, sweet almost. He watches her sit on the chair opposite. She smiles gently.

A new nurse. How many does that make now? He's lost count. There seems to be a new one here every day. He doesn't blame them, its hell in here. Someone's idea of a sick joke. The phrase bounces around his head.

"Hello John"

John? Who the hell was John…Ohhh…he supposes she means him. He hasn't answered to John in a long, long time, has to be close to a century now. He remembers his ma calling him Johnny, nobody these days would ever dare to call him that. He looks at her. She's pretty. In the past he's always been drawn to brunettes, but he supposes he could always go blonde. He almost smiles.

Almost but not quite.

"Callie says that you prefer to be known as Mitchell" she continues as if he's answered her. He blinks. His head swims a little. He's tired; maybe he can catch some sleep. He does sleep once in a while; he prefers not to because of nightmares, he has the most horrific nightmares. Whatever happy pills they're pumping into him doesn't stop them, which would be too easy, to be so zonked out on them that nothing penetrates his foggy mind but the moment sleep claims him then he's treated to nightmares of horrendous proportions complete with 3D surround sound Dolby stereo effects. His doctor has said that he's frequently found in the middle of his room screaming hysterically but he never remembers it.

He always comes to strapped to his bed.

"I'm Elizabeth, Elizabeth Powell; you'll be seeing me a lot around here. I'm new so you'll have to fill me in on who is who and what goes on in here, I'm sure you know everything and everyone" He would've frowned at her if he could. What the hell is she talking about? Doesn't she know already that he doesn't like to talk to anyone so what makes her think he'll talk to her? He narrows his eyes very slightly. She's pretty, she has lovely blue eyes, she kind of reminds him of someone he knew, he just can't think of her name right now.

Instead he looks away. He wants to sleep.

Elizabeth sits back in her seat as Mitchell unfurls his long legs and slowly gets to his feet. He pauses for a brief second as if to get his bearings and walks away. She watches him stride away. He hasn't said a word to her but she gets the distinct impression that he's weighed her up, made up his mind about her and dismissed her, all in under five minutes.

Impressive.

* * *

"He doesn't have a camera in his room?" Elizabeth looks at Simon in wide eyed shock. There are cameras in every patient's room. They can be observed and monitored that way.

"Why not?" Simon shrugs.

"Don't know but he went berserk the first time he saw it, completely smashed up his room and kept doing so til it was removed. He's the only one on the ward without a camera, same with his sessions with Doctor Barton, no video, not that he says anything to anyone to begin with…"

"So how do you keep an eye on him?" she asks curiously.

"Visual checks for the most part. He's one of the better behaved patients here, though it can get a bit noisy once in a while when he has one of his nightmares" He rolls his eyes. Elizabeth knows that nightmares are a frequent symptom of the patients here. In her old job, her nightshift duties mainly consisted of calming down hysterical patients caught in the grips of delusions, night terrors and other such horrors.

"They're bad?"

"Yeah, they're nasty. I wonder what goes on in that head of his sometimes for that to happen" he commented. Elizabeth takes a sip of her rapidly cooling tea and wonders too.

* * *

He lies on his bed. The mattress is thin; he can feel the springs poking into his spine. He shifts to get comfortable but it was a waste of time. At least he's allowed a bed with springs, there are patients here that will tear their room apart and use anything they can get their hands on to hurt themselves. He stares up at the ceiling. He blinks. There's nothing of him here and that was okay. He closes his eyes. He wants the oblivion. He wants the peace. Here he gets neither.

"_You're dead to me Mitchell. We never met; I will never speak your name out loud again" _

_I miss him. He says that I saved his life when in reality, he saved mine. Oh sure he could drive me crazy when he went on one of his high strung rants but they were a part of him. It's taken a little while since that initial meeting behind the café but I'd trust him with my life. He keeps me sane, a little grip of reality when all around me everything is turning to shit. _

_I see Nina lying on that hospital bed. She's so pale, so still, so lifeless. I can hear her heart beating. I want to tell George that she'll be okay, well physically she will be. Emotionally, well that's another story all together. Their baby is gone. She found out my truth, the reason why I'm losing my mind and now I'm the one being rejected. I open my mouth to apologise, even though what happened to her wasn't directly my fault but he's judged and sentenced me. Guilty by association. I can't speak to plead my case. He won't listen to me anyway. His Nina has been grievously injured, he's beyond forgiveness or understanding and I don't blame him. Would I be under the same circumstances? No I wouldn't be. Our world to him is very black and white; he doesn't want to see the shades of grey. _

He opens his eyes and realises that they're wet. He rolls onto his side and stares into the nothingness. He wonders what George is doing and whether he ever thinks about him. He thinks about him most days. He misses him. He blinks and then slowly sits up. He turns his head towards the open door. The only time the door is closed is when the lights go out. That's when he's locked in. That's when the real fun begins.

* * *

He eats mechanically and without tasting what's in front of him. It's something to do and he doesn't think about it. Elizabeth watches him. He's hard to miss, the calm within the storm that is raging all around. She's spent fifteen minutes convincing Lily that her potatoes aren't poisoned and really do taste nice and Malcolm just won't sit still and is disrupting the other patients. Simon informs her that this seems to happen daily with him. She sighs. She'll get to recognise their quirks and their habits and their tell tale signs soon enough but she hates being the new kid on the block.

Mitchell lifts his head once his plate is empty. He sees the new nurse across the room, sitting beside Malcolm, making sure he sits still enough to eat something but he never does. The size he is, he could do with losing a couple of stone. He gets to his feet and takes his tray back to the bench with the others to be taken away, one of the few that actually do this. He turns and heads back to his room. He keeps his head down; his eyes are trained on the floor. It doesn't do any good making eye contact with the patients here. They seem to know that he wants to be left alone and don't bother him.

_Annie, my Annie. My soul, my salvation. I want her to be my salvation. She's my strength when everything is lost. She looks at me like she doesn't recognise me any more. George has told her what I did back in Bristol. She understands now why we had to leave in such a hurry. I don't want her to hate me; I couldn't cope if she hated me. I confessed to Lia that I had wanted her to like me; I want Annie to love me. I want to love and be loved._

_I have no-one._

* * *

Elizabeth has been working at the ward for a couple of weeks now. She's becoming familiar with the patients and their quirks. Mitchell still remains a mystery, an intriguing mystery. Simon tells her not to get too invested in him, others have tried and failed. He doesn't take part in any group events, he doesn't talk, and he doesn't look at anyone for any great length of time. All that anyone knows about him is that his name is John Mitchell and he's originally from Ireland. When he'd been first admitted, raging and raving, his Irish accent had been clear. He's retreated into virtual silence since then. If he isn't in the day room then he's in his own room, he doesn't venture very far. Nobody visits him, not that many of them do get any visitors but no-one is interested in this man at all.

It's getting late and this is her first night shift. She's done them before at her old place and knows what to expect. They spend the hour before lights off settling down the patients, doling out the necessary medication and making sure that it's taken. Some take pills, others have injections. She helps Callie with this task, doling out the tiny paper cups that hold the variety of pills, watching the patients take them with practised ease. Mitchell waits in the line, silent as always. She hands him his little paper cup and watches him toss the pills down with a mouthful of water.

"I need to check you've taken them" she reminds him quietly. Obediently he opens his mouth and allows her to check. She nods and he walks away to his room.

It's quiet. Elizabeth does a quick bed check and amazingly enough most of the patients are sleeping and the ones that aren't there yet are quiet. She's aware though of how quickly that situation can and does change. Everything can be in uproar as quickly as it takes the time to cough or sneeze. Her shoes don't make a sound as she walks along the corridor. She pauses by Mitchell's room and peers through the glass partition of his door. He's sitting on his bed, his knees pulled up, resting his chin on them. He lifts his head and he looks at her for a moment before he lowers his head to stare at the floor again. She watches him for another moment before continuing with her bed checks.

* * *

_I felt the snap go off in my head. It was the strangest of feelings. For weeks I'd been struggling to keep everything together and also to appear as normal as possible which given what I am, was quite an achievement. Everything was piling down on top of me and I was beginning to suffocate beneath the weight of trying to be someone I wasn't sure I could be, fighting against something I didn't want to be but had no choice in being and also the guilt of what I had done back in Bristol. Something had to give and I guess it was the sight of those detectives walking along the path towards me. The threads began to unravel at that point. I spent days avoiding the issue, grabbing at the escaping threads and trying to hold it all together. Who was I kidding? It was only a matter of time before everything got too crazy, too intense, just too… much. _

_The moment of realisation, when I saw her holding that book in her hand, oh God, I thought I was going to be sick. It was the look of utter condemnation that did me in. I always knew Nina regarded me warily, she was never comfortable with how close George had been to me and plus the whole vampire thing. It was like she finally had the excuse to be rid of me in her hand. Behind her Herrick had stood, protected, triumphant, the master manipulator at his most victorious. It was that smirk on his face that had been my final undoing._

_I don't know what happened or even how it happened but something went off in my head. And Nina was the one who paid the price._

He lifts his head at the spear of pain that lances through him. His head is swimming with the effort to fight against the sleeping pill he'd had to take but he feels the weariness overpower him and he decides to give in to it, just this once and he hopes that his sleep is dreamless.

* * *

Elizabeth is catching up on notes when she hears the first moan. She checks the clock and sees that it's close to midnight. She listens but everything seems to be quiet and still. She goes back to her notes but five minutes later she hears the same sound again. Bearing in mind what Simon has told her about Mitchell and his nightmares, she makes the decision to go and check on him and she looks to Callie.

"Just going to check on a patient" she tells her in a low voice and her colleague nods and goes back to her own report writing.

Elizabeth does another tour, checking on the patients and seeing that for the most part, they're sleeping as peacefully as possible. She pauses outside of Mitchell's door. He's lying on his bed, his back to her but he's restless. He's muttering under his breath and twitching. She takes a step back as he suddenly sits up.

_I can hear them whispering to me. I often hear their voices but they're worse at night when I have nothing to block them out. They're the voices of the innocents, the victims. They tell me their names, how old they are, the day that they died. I know this already so I don't understand why they have to keep doing this to me, I know already. They stay with me during every moment, sometimes I think I see them out of the corner of my eye but when I look, there's no one there. _

"_Mitchell…." The tone is quiet and musical. I freeze. I want them to go away. Oh please, just go away and leave me be._

"_Look at me Mitchell…" the same voice tells me, still with that sing song tone that scratches along my nerves. I don't want to, I really don't want to but the voice is insistent. I turn my head and I see her standing by the door. It's Lia. _

"_You thought you'd escaped from me you naughty boy" she walks towards me, wagging her finger accusingly. I can't answer, I'm too scared._

"_Pretending to be crazy so they'd lock you up in here, I would say that's a stroke of genius but we come and go in here as we please as well" she stops in front of me. She stares at me contemptuously._

"_We can just as easily take you here as anywhere Mitchell my boy" she warns me, her tone becoming harder, crueller. She touches my face, her fingers digging into my chin as I try to pull away._

"_You're ours do you hear me? You'll never be free of us!" she hisses. _

"_Go away, leave me alone" I whisper. _

"_Sorry, can't do that" I look at her_

"_What do you want from me?" I demand. She tilts her head to the side and smiles coldly._

"_You John Mitchell, I want you…there are twenty lost souls waiting for you, for their chance at retribution. Do you think that just because you're in here, we're going to give up and go away? Think again" _

Elizabeth watches him curiously. She can see his lips moving as though he's having a conversation. A lot of the patients do that, talk to themselves but the way his eyes dart around, she gets the impression that he's scared. It's then that he catches sight of her watching him and he quietens. That reserved air about him resumes but he doesn't lie down. Instead he pushes himself backwards to that he's sitting across his bed, his back against the wall. He pulls his legs up beneath his chin and wraps his arms around his knees. His chin goes down and he's staring at his feet.

_Now look what I've done. I've got that nurse all curious about me again. Don't think that I haven't noticed her watching me. I close my eyes and rest my forehead against my knees and hope she takes the hint and walks away. I'm okay; I'm fine, just a bit restless. It happens. I lift my head just a touch, enough so that I can peek without being really obvious and she's still there. Didn't that other nurse tell her about me? I look down again and close my eyes. _

Elizabeth unlocks his door and opens it a fraction.

"Is everything okay Mitchell?" she enquires in a soft voice. As she expects, he doesn't reply. She ventures into his room. She walks across the small space to his bedside and flinches when his head comes up. His face is bathed with shadows but his eyes are wide. For a moment they stare at each other. Slowly she sits down beside him.

He moves his head to the side so that he can see her. Her hair is fastened back and he can see her pale white throat. He stares at it; mesmerised, imagining he can see the pulse beating against the skin. He can hear it; he can hear all of them. How easy would it be for him to just lean across and nip her? sink his teeth into that soft, wonderful skin? The sounds fill his head, echoing, rushing, overwhelming. He drags in a deep breath and closes his eyes. He turns his head back to rest his forehead on his knees again.

Elizabeth hears the sharp intake of breath and sees him look away. For a moment she thought that he was going to say something, his stare had been intense, almost unnerving and there had been such a look of…longing in his eyes, but instead there was his dismissal. It stings a little bit but she keeps forgetting that this is Mitchell. He doesn't interact if he can help it. She goes to touch him but stops herself. She lets her hand fall into her lap instead. After a moment of silence, she stands up and leaves him be.

_I lift my head when I hear the door close and the lock turn. The nurse has gone but Lia is back beside the door, watching me, waiting for her moment._

* * *

Dawn is breaking and her shift will be over soon. She stretches her arms over her head and yawns. So far it's been a quiet night; a couple of minor disturbances and that has been it.

Her heart jumps when she hears the thumping. It sounds like someone is trying to get out of their room. She and Callie exchange worried looks.

"I'll put money on that being Mitchell's room" Callie comments as they both get to their feet.

They hear his screams and begin to run. Two other nurses, both male, join them. Elizabeth gets there first.

Mitchell is throwing himself against the door. His eyes are wide and staring and he's screaming to be let out, for someone to help him. Elizabeth fumbles for her keys but manages to unlock his door as he throws himself against it again. She catches him and they both tumble to the ground. He's heavy. He turns his head and he looks at her and her heart stops in her breast.

His eyes are pure obsidian.

It lasts for a millisecond maybe but it scares her. He blinks and the blackness has disappeared as the two male nurses grab his arms and haul him off her. He looks at her; it's as if he knows what she's seen. He then turns his attention to his captors and he struggles violently and they have a real problem keeping hold of him.

"Are you okay?" Callie breathes and for a moment Elizabeth looks at her. She nods briskly and gets to her feet. Her shoulder aches slightly from the contact with the hard tiled floor. She feels mildly breathless. She looks back at Mitchell. Simon has him pushed against the wall, Neil has his arms securely behind his back and Simon is talking quietly to him as the doctor on call appears. He doesn't seem surprised to discover that his patient is Mitchell.

They inject him with something that knocks him out and Elizabeth watches him being wheeled back into his room and lifted onto the bed. His head lolls to the side as he's strapped in.

"He'll be out for a good few hours yet" Callie tells her but she can't take her eyes off him. She wonders what the deal was with his pure black eyes.

* * *

She sits in the cafeteria and stares at the table surface. Her shift is over but she can't sleep.

"Here. You look like you could do with this" A cup of tea appears in front of her and she lifts her head and smiles into kind blue eyes. She wraps her hands around the cup and absorbs the comforting heat.

"Thanks George" she tells him in a low voice.

"Busy night?" she rolls her eyes a little as she lifts the cup to her lips and takes a drink. It's strong, unsweetened with just a little bit of milk. The cafeteria is deserted at this time of the morning.

"Not so much, just towards the end, patient knocked me clean off my feet" she confides. She looks across the table at George Sands, a new friend she's made here at the hospital. She knows that he's a porter here and they struck up a conversation of sorts just a couple of weeks ago, just as she was about to start her first shift at the psychiatric ward. The first time she'd seen him, he'd been standing by the doorway, just staring in with a sad, haunted expression on his face.

"No harm done I hope?" she shook her head.

"No, apparently he does this a lot, has night terrors, I was on the receiving end of this one, hazard of the job"

"Who was the patient or are you not allowed to talk about them?" She knows that the other staff members talk about the patients like they're characters in some funny cartoon strip, though she feels they're laughing at them and not with them. It's not their fault they're in there in the first place.

"His name is John Mitchell. He never speaks to anyone but once in a while he has these horrible, screaming nightmares" she tells him and then closes her mouth, she feels like she's betrayed something. She looks across at him.

"Apart from the nightmares, he doesn't say a word" She wonders at his expression. He seems so desperately sad all of a sudden. She takes another sip of her tea.

"But I wonder about him"

_It's my fault he's in there. I watched him become completely unhinged in a short space of time; I should've seen it sooner. What kind of friend am I not to see my best friend struggle with his _sanity, _with_ _his_ _humanity_? _Why_ _couldn't_ I _have_ _just_ _sat_ _him_ _down_ _and_ _asked_ _him_ _straight_ _what was wrong. The truth is that I was a coward. I had this brilliant new life set out in front of me. I was going to be a father; a truly splendid miracle that I never ever thought would happen to me and that was all that I saw, all that I chose to see. Why couldn't I have just stepped away from that for a moment and looked at my friend and seen what was going on inside of his head? I knew we had to leave Bristol in a hurry, something inside of me told me what had happened, what he'd done but it was like a light turning off inside my head. I had other things to think about. If I had taken the time to listen, would he be here? Who knows? He's my best friend in the world, who has saved me more than once. He has listened to me, offered advice and yeah, pissed me off but he was my friend, forever in my corner. _

_And I miss him. _

_**FIN.**_


	2. Ties That Bind

**A/N: Well this _was_ going to be a one shot. I was unprepared for the reaction that it got. Many thanks to those of you who read and more importantly, reviewed. I'm blown away by your words, thank you. Here's another chapter. It may expand into more, it may not, we shall see, i'll leave it open for now. All errors are my own as are unfamiliar characters. Love to hear your thoughts :) Again, this is my interpretation, written before last nights' episode.**

**Again, Mitchell and George's thoughts are in italics.**

* * *

**Ties That Bind. **

He slowly opens his eyes. His head is pounding and his mouth is unbearably dry. He frowns. He tugs at his arms and finds them restrained at the wrists. He doesn't need to look to know that his legs are restrained at the ankles too. It's daylight too. He turns his head and sees the staff passing by his door. How long will he lie here til they remember him? He looks back up at the ceiling and waits them out.

Two big burly male nurses come into his room a little while later. He can see them out of the corner of his eye. He remains passive as they unfasten his wrists and his ankles. One of them comes into his line of vision. His expression is cold, scornful almost.

"You'll behave this time won't you Mitchell?" It's not a request. There's hardness beneath his tone that rubs him the wrong way. He's almost tempted to ask what would happen if he didn't.

"You had quite the turn this morning, knocked poor Elizabeth clean off her feet" Mitchell doesn't move as he struggles to remember who Elizabeth is and what he did to her.

"You'd better apologise to her when she comes back tonight or there'll be hell to pay" his tone becomes mildly threatening and Mitchell turns his head a fraction to stare straight into his eyes.

"I'm used to your silent treatment matey, it doesn't bother me" He grabs him roughly by his upper arm and hauls him up. Mitchell can't help it, he wrenches his arm free.

"Careful there" the nurse warns him. Mitchell rubs his upper arm and looks away, in effect dismissing him.

"Watch the door Billy" the nurse asks his colleague and without questioning why, Billy does exactly that, walks to the doorway and stands there, his back to them both.

Mitchell suddenly finds himself propelled off his bed and dragged across the small space. He sees stars as he's slammed up against the wall. He's held immobile by a hand at the back of his neck.

"I know what you are" he hisses close to his ear. Mitchell struggles to turn his head to look at him but he's held in place.

"I know what you did you murderous bastard, did you think I couldn't _smell_ you?" It's then that a new stench hits Mitchell's nostrils.

_Werewolf._

Panic makes him struggle harder.

"You'll keep" the nurse promises him softly. He squeezes and black dots dance in Mitchell's eyes. Then he lets go and Mitchell collapses to the floor. He curls up into a ball and waits for the other man to leave.

* * *

The other patients eye him warily as he enters the day room. He's aware that he caused quite a ruckus earlier this morning, probably woke the entire ward with his rantings and ravings. He doesn't remember any of it, or what he does remember, he's not sure whether it was a figment of his imagination or not. He's also keeping his eyes open for the dog. He can't see him and he relaxes marginally but he knows he won't be far away.

_I remember Ivan grabbing me. I don't remember what he said because at that exact moment my head was filled with noise. It screamed inside my head, deafening me. Then I was flying through the air amidst fire, bodies and exploding pieces of wood. I remember the flash of brightness, the orange flame shooting upwards and outwards, grasping, tearing and destroying. Afterwards there was devastation, grief and unbearable pain and loss. I can still hear Daisy's anguished keening even now. She was inconsolable, I was just bewildered and grieving the loss of my friend._

* * *

The only side effect Elizabeth has of her encounter with Mitchell is a slightly sore shoulder. Other than that, she's fine. She clocks in a little early, she wants to be prepared for the shift change over and be prepared for any changes in the patients. She also wants to see Mitchell again, she still wonders about the pure black eyes that she witnessed.

Callie arrives not much later. They exchange rueful smiles. Another fun filled night on the psychiatric ward.

He's not in the line for night time medication. Callie consults the list and notices too.

"I can check his room if you like?" Elizabeth suggests and her colleague nods in agreement. Elizabeth hands off her task to Barbara and heads off to his room.

"Mitch…what's going on?" Her voice changes as she pauses in the doorway. Mitchell is lying on the floor and Daniel, one of the nurses has his knee between his shoulder blades, his arms wrenched behind his back. She looks up at Billy who's watching with amusement. She strides in, anger building inside of her.

"Daniel, what the hell do you think you're doing?" she demands angrily.

"Patient was getting a little…argumentative…" he informs her. Elizabeth looks at him.

"How, he barely speaks as it is. I think you should leave" Daniel looks at her again in disbelief.

"Let go of him Daniel, he's a patient here, I won't hesitate to report you"

"Your word against ours sweetheart" he looks back at Mitchell and wrenches his arms tighter, almost popping them out of their sockets.

"Do I need to go and get Simon or Neil? This is bullying"

"You don't know what he is" he all but growls. Elizabeth grabs his arm and stares at him.

"He's a _patient_ here Daniel and if you can't see that then you're in the wrong job _sweetheart_" she snaps back. Daniel stares at her. Elizabeth stares back. She refuses to feel intimidated by him.

"Elizabeth? Everything okay in here?" she turns her head at the new voice, its Simon and there's a frown on his face. Elizabeth looks back at Daniel and the challenge is clear.

"Everything is fine Simon, though I could do with some help here" she tells him, her eyes never leaving Daniel's face.

"Sure, not a problem"

Finally Daniel lets go of him and gets to his feet. His expression is scornful. She stands her ground while her stomach is turning somersaults. She doesn't break their gaze until they're out of his room. Once they are she turns her attention to Mitchell. He's lying on the floor and he's very very still.

"Mitchell…" she crouches down and touches his shoulder. He flinches and rolls onto his back. She lifts up both hands in supplication.

"Easy now…they've gone" she tells him and then frowns when she sees the blood dripping from his nose and bottom lip.

"Those…bastards…" she reaches for him but he flinches away again and slides across the floor til his back makes contact with his bed. It's been tossed and turned upside down, the mattress lying at a drunken angle on the floor. She keeps a safe distance from him and instead digs into her trouser pocket and takes out a clean tissue. She regards him. He's staring at her. She moves closer to him. He's still and vigilant. Hesitantly she reaches towards him and gently presses the tissue against his lip. He hisses at the pain. His eyes dart suspiciously between Simon and Elizabeth. Simon is standing in the door way, watching him.

"Sorry…" she apologises, wincing. Slowly, carefully she dabs at the cut.

"We should let someone look at that" He regards her and then he shakes his head.

"It's okay" he whispers. She stares at him. She smiles faintly.

"He speaks" she comments. She holds out the tissue and he takes it from her and presses it to his mouth again. She straightens up as he gets to his feet. She doesn't offer to help him.

"Why don't you go with Simon and get your medicine?" she suggests and he looks at her.

"I'll straighten up your bed…if that's okay?" he doesn't react but he slowly walks out of his room with Simon as his guardian. Simon casts her a look before disappearing from view.

He gets a couple of double takes when his cut and swollen bottom lip is noticed. His cheekbone is already bruised from his earlier run in with the dog. He keeps his head down and avoids any more eye contact. He's given his sleeping pill and he takes it automatically.

He gets back to his room, mentally preparing himself to deal with the nurse who'd helped him but she's not there but his bed is neatly made again. He turns his head and looks towards the door. There's no sign of her.

* * *

_The ward is silent, the lights are low. I think I'm starting to develop a tolerance for these sleeping tablets because I'm not tired. Maybe it's the way I'm wired, I don't know. They didn't have these things when I was…alive. I wonder how some of the poor saps here would've survived back then. I remember seeing the effects of shell shock. I witnessed things back then that no man should ever see, the abandoned bodies, bloated, dismembered, and forgotten. They were anonymous to me but meant something to someone back home, wherever their home was. How many times had I scrambled over the bodies, having to ignore the cries for help that I heard and just plod on, through the mud and hope to God I would make it through the next barrage, my heart thundering in my chest, my mouth too dry to swallow. Death follows sometimes silently and often without warning._

_Most of the time. God I should know._

_I lift my head when I hear footsteps. One of the nurses doing their regular checks, so I lie down and stare at the ceiling. I close my eyes._

_They're open again. I can feel a soft weight across my chest._

"_Mitchell…" a voice whispers close to my ear, holy fuck it's Daisy. I bolt upright. The weight is gone and I can see her across the room, beside the door. How the hell did she get in here, through a locked door undetected? She's laughing and I'm not sure why. _

"_Having fun in here are we?" she asks, taking slow steps towards me. I can't speak; I don't know whether she's actually here or a participant in something else entirely. She dances around me and I remember just how…nimble she can be. _

"_What do you want?" I ask her. She skips over and sits down beside me and she swings her legs backwards and forwards. She's wearing that floral dress with the boots and the denim jacket. It was what she wore that time in the car park back in Bristol, at the abandoned church, outside of the pub. She trails a finger down the length of my arm and I flinch away. _

"_If I told you, I think you'd be shocked" she replies in a low, flirtatious tone. I look at her and I recoil. Every inch of her is covered with blood. It drips from her fingertips as she slides them into her mouth. I can't help it, I want some. I feel my eyes change. I watch it run in thick rivulets and I remember the taste. I can feel my fangs bursting through and the hunger rages unabated. _

"_There he is…" she purrs. Her hand is on my chest, slipping beneath the t-shirt I'm wearing, caressing. My eyes close. Her hand is sliding irrevocably downwards._

_A sudden crash explodes through the air and I jolt. I open my eyes. I'm alone._

* * *

"Jesus, I'm sorry" Callie apologises. She sends Elizabeth an apologetic smile as she picks up the debris. Elizabeth gets to her feet.

"It's okay, accidents happen"

"It was my favourite cup" she mourns and Elizabeth wonders why she'd have a favourite anything in a place like this.

"I'll get a mop"

"You should call the front desk and they'll send someone to clean it up" Callie suggests.

"It'd be quicker to do it ourselves" Elizabeth answers with a smile.

"It's why we have cleaners in the first place"

"I won't be a couple of minutes" Elizabeth promises her and heads off to the supply cupboard.

She passes Mitchell's room on the way. He's awake, sitting on the side of his bed, staring at his hands. She pauses and he turns his head and looks at her. There's no expression on his face and again her mind drifts back to how his eyes had turned such pure black last night. She must have imagined it somehow. She continues on to the supply cupboard.

* * *

Shift changeover and Elizabeth is thankful that it was a quiet night. No screaming night terrors from Mitchell or any of the other patients for that matter. She did bed checks regularly and he seemed to be sleeping from about two onwards.

She shrugs on her jacket and says her goodbyes. Daniel passes her and the expression in his eyes is arrogant and it rankles with her. He thinks he's so big and tough but then again that was a bully for you. She makes a mental note to keep an eye on him, ask about him. He's got it in for Mitchell and she needs to know why.

It's cold outside, the sun hasn't fully risen. She sees George coming in the other direction and his smile is cheery. She wonders whether he would know Daniel.

"Everything okay?" he asks as she pauses beside him. She regards him.

"Actually…" she stops. She frowns.

"Elizabeth?" She shifts, wondering how to phrase her question.

"I'm wondering whether you know Daniel Moorcroft. He's a nurse on the psych ward" She watches him frown, obviously trying to put a face to the name and failing miserably.

"Sorry…doesn't ring a bell I'm afraid, why?" he frowns.

"Has he been giving you a hard time?" And he watches her roll her eyes.

"Not me. A patient, he's been giving a patient a hard time, John Mitchell. I caught him being heavy handed with him last night before shift change over and of course Mitchell won't talk full stop so I don't know the full story. I guess I just need to keep an eye on him" George wonders who she's talking about, Mitchell or the nurse. She looks at him and her frown disappears.

"I need to go. Sorry to have bothered you" and she's walking away. He watches her leave.

_I should've admitted him under another name. Why didn't I think of that? Because I'm George that's why and thinking on my feet is not a particular strong suit of mine. Or failing that, I should've gotten him admitted somewhere where I didn't happen to be employed so I wouldn't be here torturing myself about his well being._

_I told him that as far as I was concerned he no longer existed and at the time I meant it with every fibre of my soul. Nina had been lying at the bottom of the stair case in a blood soaked heap with Mitchell standing over her. When I'd called his name, his eyes had been black as hell and for a horrible, horrible second I thought that he'd attacked her, killed her. Directly or not, he is responsible for what happened to Nina. He is the reason that she ended up in that hospital bed, our child gone. I blame him for the internal scars that she carries now. And mine too. _

_But I remember that I have a heart. I traitorously remember his loyalty, I remember those good times we shared. Those early days when we nervously circled around each other, getting to know one another as I slowly began to realise that he wasn't going to rip my throat out when I wasn't paying attention. We actually got along; I don't know who was the most surprised at that revelation. _

_I'm going to have to go to the psych ward. No one there is supposed to know who Mitchell is but if this Daniel Moorcroft is targeting him, then there's only one reason why and I hope to God that I'm wrong. _

_I don't want to. Even though I put him in there for his own safety, I don't want to get involved again because if I do, I won't be able to walk away. I can't look Nina in the eye and tell her that he's in our life again. _

_But it's Mitchell and because it's Mitchell, I have to._

* * *

_Becca. _

_Her name comes to me the moment I open my eyes. I stare up at the ceiling. The nurse reminded me of Becca. I remember looking into her eyes and thinking she reminded me of someone but her name wouldn't come to me. I'm not supposed to forget. I'm supposed to remember all of their names; I used to make it my purpose to know all their names. I may not have killed her but I might as well have done, I put her in Lauren's sights after all. _

_I remember George begging me to do something, to save her. Lauren watched nearby, hovering malevolently, waiting for me to make my choice. She'd been almost betrayed by my refusal. I just couldn't do it; I'd made a mistake by recruiting Lauren but to do it to Becca as well? So Becca died and Lauren veered wildly between hating me and needing me. And I did the same._

_Later I heard Annie and George whispering in the kitchen, Annie worrying whether I'd be okay or not, George telling her that I would be, eventually and you know, I don't think I ever will be. Back in the bad days, I'd have done what I did and walked away without a second glance but with sobriety comes a conscience._

* * *

She's slightly late for work, her alarm clock malfunctioned and she over slept. She's hurrying along the corridor towards the psych ward. She slows down when she sees George standing at the doors again. He's staring through the little glass window but he's making no attempt to go in.

"Hey…" he flinches when he hears her voice and spins around in one strangely uncoordinated move that knocks him slightly off kilter.

"Elizabeth...hi!" his voice is slightly too high and a bit tight.

"Do you want to go in?" she points to the door and he looks at it for a moment. His responding head shake is quick; his mouth opens and closes for a second or two.

"Is there someone in there you want to see?" she asks him softly. His mouth closes resolutely this time. He shakes his head again, unable to think of a coherent, believable reason why he is here.

Thoughts of Mitchell have been bothering him all day, intruding on his thoughts. He's also curious about the nurse in the ward who's targeting him. Maybe he should look into getting Mitchell out of here and put somewhere else.

* * *

_He looks from me to Annie. I'm holding the scrapbook. He watches me open it and newspaper cuttings slide out and float to the floor like flower petals. He watches Annie reach for one, grab it and hold it in her hand. He watches her dark brown eyes scan the sensational words and sees her joining the dots, making the connections and her eyes are filled with horror. _

"_This can't be true" she whispers in disbelief. He wants to tell her that they're all lies, that he had nothing to do with it. It pains him to admit that he had everything to do with it and more._

"_This was why we had to leave. I saw you, I looked into your eyes and I saw. This was all your doing. You were responsible for all of this" he looks at me now, hearing me. How can he explain? _

"_How could you not have known?" he says instead in quiet disbelief. My eyes widen in surprise, I don't know what I was expecting Mitchell to say but this wasn't it. _

"_At that place…you saw me…the blood…those other…people…how could you not have known that I did that?" he throws out a hand towards that damned book and I blink, my mouth opening and closing. I look at the book that I'm still holding._

"_I thought…you were saving us…" I babble. _

"_I wanted to kill them George, every single one of them, Lucy and that fucking religious nutter especially" he retaliates angrily. Annie's eyes are filling with tears and he chooses to ignore it. He has to otherwise it will be his undoing._

"_They had a vendetta against us George, because of who we are. They would've killed you given half the chance, they wouldn't have been helping you and you…he sent you to purgatory!" he snarls, glaring at Annie now._

"_I got too close to her, I told her about me…and in return, in thanks, she killed them. Ivan, Campbell, Sarah, James, Andrew…she blew them all to kingdom come._

"_That was Kemp" I remind him, suddenly scarily calm._

"_She was there George, she was just as responsible"_

"_You felt something for her Mitchell; you were making a very real connection…"_

"_Bullshit!" his denial is vicious_

"_And when this happened…and you realised she was…involved…so you turned on her too, kill or be killed?" my eyes narrow very slightly_

"_So you killed. Twenty innocent human beings and for what? Revenge?" my tone turns icy. Mitchell stares at me. _

"_You don't understand…"_

"_Don't I? I think I do understand Mitchell" _

_I thought I did, at the time I really did. He and Daisy had slaughtered those people in cold blood. They had the misfortune to be on that train at that time, it could have been anyone. It could have been me or Nina. Indirectly it had already cost us our child. _

Elizabeth notices George has gone rather still, his pale skin a little more white. He looks so…sad all of a sudden and she wonders why. He seems to snap out whatever reverie that clings to him and he straightens his shoulders.

"I'm fine thanks Elizabeth. Must dash" and he strides away. She turns and watches him. His posture is stiff and she frowns slightly.

_I can't be here. I can't be responsible for him any more. I just can't. I need to get away, I need to leave._

The mild feeling of panic spurs George on as he leaves the hospital. As he exits and the cool air hits him, he slows down a little bit. He looks back at the hospital building over his shoulder.

He needs to think. He needs to think about what he should do.


	3. One Step Closer

**Again, many thanks for the great reviews. I appreciate them all :) Another update. I've probably taken liberties here so any factual errors are unintentional as are all other errors. Mitchell's thoughts are beginning to unravel at an alarming rate. I'm hoping another update will be forthcoming, we shall see. Love to hear your thoughts. **

* * *

**One Step Closer.**

She's in early today, after a week of nights and then a couple of days off, she decides that it's nice to go into work when the sun is still high in the sky. She goes through the routine of clocking on and locking away her jacket and shoulder bag. She smiles at Callie.

She's getting used to the place; she's getting to know the patients and the other nurses. Since the incident in Mitchell's room, she keeps an extra eye on him. She doesn't cross paths with Daniel but it doesn't mean that she isn't careful. So far there were no more injuries, no more trouble. Maybe Daniel has realised and is keeping his distance. It helps that Simon is vigilant too.

She doesn't notice him in the day room. The other patients keep her occupied and he slips from her mind.

* * *

George walks into the cafeteria. It's lunchtime but food is the furthest thing from his mind. His eyes scan the faces at the tables. Most of them are patients or relatives but he sees doctors, nurses, other porters scattered here and there, grabbing a quick bite to eat before they're swallowed up with work again.

A few careful questions have told him who Daniel Moorcroft is. Then he sees him. For a moment he stares at him. Well he's certainly big enough but since he was attacked, George has learned that werewolves come in a variety of shapes and sizes. Nina was a perfect example. He takes a deep breath. He really doesn't want to do this, he's not confrontational and he seriously hopes it doesn't get to that but at the same time he can't have this on his conscience. As he gets close enough to him, he catches a whiff of him and thinks _oh yeah_. He's definitely one of 'them'.

He watches him look up at him. He's with another man; he assumes this is his partner in crime, Billy. Those same contacts have told him that these two are joined at the hip. He glances at him; he doesn't pick anything up off this guy that tells him that he's supernatural.

"Can I help you?" George snaps to attention and regards Daniel. He clenches and unclenches his hands as various opening scenarios stutter through his mind.

"Um…yeah…I was wondering whether I could have a word with you?" he begins. He watches Daniel stare at his face and he wonders whether he's guessed already.

"What about?" he asks and George glances at his friend nervously who's watching him with open curiosity.

"It's about…a patient…in the psych ward?" He watches his eyes narrow suspiciously.

"And which patient would that be exactly?" his tone cools and George almost sees his hackles rise.

"I think you know who…"

"Has that blonde bitch nurse been whining to you? Who _are_ you exactly?" Daniel is becoming dangerously defensive and George quails momentarily but at the same time he's insulted on Elizabeth's behalf. He takes a deep breath and leans forward so that his hands are braced on the table. He actually looks a lot braver than he feels. He stares steadily at Daniel.

"I know what you are, Every time there's a full moon?" he pauses and sees his eyes widen in understanding. He takes another, shakier breath.

"The patient I'm alluding to? You will leave him alone because believe me, if you don't, Elizabeth will be the least of your problems" He keeps his voice low but he makes his intention clear. He straightens up, still maintaining eye contact and he notices that he still has the other man's complete attention. He turns and he leaves.

Once out of sight he rips off his glasses and sags to the floor, his knees becoming rubbery. He exhales noisily and wipes at his face with his other hand. A couple of people stare at him in curiosity as they walk past but he looks away.

He hopes to God that that's enough. He gets to his feet. It has to be.

* * *

She realises that she still hasn't seen him by the time lunch time crawls around and he's not in line with the other patients.

"Where's Mitchell?" she asks Callie.

"He's on twenty four observation, away from the other patients" Simon informs them and Elizabeth stares at him.

"What happened? He's normally no trouble at all"

"According to his notes, he became violent right before his night time medications on Saturday, took four nurses to subdue him" He watches Elizabeth hunt through the files until she reaches his and she opens it and quickly scans the contents. He watches her expression change.

"The nurse who reported him… Daniel Moorcroft" her voice is dripping with scorn.

"Meaning?" Callie enquires and Elizabeth looks at Simon.

"You said it yourself, Mitchell keeps to himself. He doesn't mix with the other patients, he doesn't talk, he just sits there and all of a sudden he's violent and with a nurse who for some reason doesn't seem to like him?" she closes the folder and replaces it.

"Mitchell is a patient here Elizabeth, you know how quickly their moods change" Callie reminds her and she nods. Oh she knows it, she's seen it.

"I do but _Mitchell_? You've worked here longer than I have Callie, have you ever seen him react to anything out of the ordinary?" She watches Callie slowly shake her head.

"The patients in here are unpredictable Elizabeth, that's why they're in here, most of them aren't here voluntarily" Simon also reminds her. She sighs raggedly.

* * *

Elizabeth is shocked at the change in Mitchell.

She brings his meal tray into his new room. Neil is watching him carefully and Elizabeth is thankful that it isn't Daniel or his friend Billy for that matter.

He's pacing the room restlessly and the change from stillness to movement is unsettling. She watches him. He's whispering beneath his breath, she can't quite hear what he's saying but once in a while he pauses and taps his forehead almost forcefully before resuming his pacing. The deterioration is startling. She places his tray on the table in front of his nurse and looks at him.

"How long has he been like that?" she asks in a low voice and he looks at her.

"Since Sunday morning, he woke up agitated and hasn't really calmed down since" he replies. His expression turns wary as he gets to his feet. Elizabeth turns her head and flinches when she sees Mitchell right in front of her. His expression is almost…sinister.

"Take a slow step back" Neil quietly instructs her. Mitchell is watching her and there's a glint in his eyes that unnerves her slightly. She doesn't need to be told twice. He continues to watch her with what seems like avid curiosity.

"You're pretty" he tells her, tilting his head to one side. She feels her heart begin to pound and his gaze seems to sharpen. He then lunges towards her. She jumps back but in the mean time Neil has stepped in between them and he wraps his arms around Mitchell's upper body and all but lifts him off his feet. Mitchell lets out a great roar of anger as Elizabeth hits the emergency button. She watches him struggle against the tight grip that Neil has around him. Neil lifts him with what looks like inhuman strength. All of a sudden the room is filled with people and she watches as he's laid on the floor. He turns his head in her direction and she lets out a squeak of shock.

His eyes are hell black and she swears she can see…_fangs?_ She blinks but in that instant they're gone but he's still staring at her. The light has gone out.

_I can smell her. The moment she comes into the room. Amidst the whispering, the constant interruptions, her perfume overcomes them all and it gets my attention. I look at her, curious as to who could do that, who could keep them all quiet even for just a second or two. It's her. The nurse who looks like…who looks like someone I can't remember who. She has hair the colour of sunlight; it's so light and pretty, like summer. She doesn't look like her at all. She doesn't look like Annie but she does look like Becca. It can't be Becca, because she's dead. Killed by Lauren. The words, the names, the faces, they're jumbling together and creating chaos…but this one…oh she's pretty. I like her and I want her. I wonder if she tastes as good as she looks? I want to find out but he won't let me. He's stopping me and that pisses me off. No…no…she's mine. _

She stands outside of his room and waits for her heartbeat to return to normal. Those eyes, what was making his eyes do that and for Christ's sakes, the teeth? It was like something out of a Gothic horror novel. She lifts her head as Neil emerges from his room. If he's shocked then he's not showing it.

"Are you okay?" he asks her and watches her slowly nod.

"You shouldn't have come in…"

"I've had dealings with him before Neil; no one could've predicted that"

"He could've hurt you"

"And thanks to you, he didn't. What'll happen to him?" she watches him turn to look back through the doorway. He's unconscious.

"Up the dosage of his drugs, keep watching him, hope he improves" he answers quietly. Elizabeth takes a step closer to him and turns and looks through the doorway. He's strapped to his bed, his eyes are closed and he's still again. She lets out a ragged breath.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Neil asks again. She looks at him and nods. She has to write up the incident in her notes but how does she explain the black eyes and the teeth? She flinches when she feels his hand on her shoulder.

"You should go and grab a cup of tea, take a break for a little bit" he suggests and she nods. Sounds like a good idea to her.

"Won't be long" she tells him.

"Take all the time you need" he tells her and she just nods. He watches her walk back along the corridor. He returns his attention to the unconscious man in the room.

The speed of his reaction to Elizabeth was alarming and he was thankful that he'd recognised the look in his eyes before he had gone for her. The expression in those eyes had been chilling. He had looked as though he wanted to do some serious damage to her. Mitchell had been a patient here for a while now, a solitary figure but not one to cause any kind of real trouble but since Elizabeth's arrival it seemed to have kicked off a reaction in him. It was probably a coincidence but at the same time it was unusual.

* * *

George chances a coffee break and sees Elizabeth sitting alone at a table, frowning into a cup. He watches her for a moment, and then buys himself a tea and a couple of Kit Kats and heads over to her table. She lifts her head and smiles tiredly up at him.

"Is it okay that I sit here?" he enquired and she nods.

"Sure" To her it's nice to see a reasonably friendly face. He lowers himself onto the seat opposite her.

"Here" he tosses one of the chocolate bars across the table and it lands beside her cup. She gives him a look of surprise before picking it up.

"Thanks George" she murmurs and opens it. He watches her for a moment.

"Is your patient bothering you?" she looks at him again.

"Is it that obvious?" she sighs, looking down into her cup again. She picks it up and swills the liquid gently before taking a sip. She looks at him again.

"He's on lockdown, separate from the other patients. He had some sort of a break over the weekend, went from completely passive to aggressive and being strapped down to his bed and heavily sedated in next to no time" she confides.

"What triggered it do you know?" Elizabeth just shrugs. She frowns again.

"It was that nurse who wrote it up in his notes. Wouldn't be surprised if he said something to him" she mutters darkly. George's gaze sharpens.

"Did he attack anyone? Your patient?" he enquires and she looks at him. She can't answer and he frowns in concern.

"Did he attack _you_?" he scans her face and her neck for any signs of scrapes or bruises or worse. Her eyes widen briefly before she shakes her head.

"He didn't get the chance, the nurse watching him was very vigilant" she whispers. George sighs very quietly. This was not good, not good at all. He looks back at Elizabeth to see her staring off into space, a tiny frown between her eyebrows.

"What?" he asks suspiciously. Her eyes come back into focus and fix onto him again. Then she looks away, back into her cup.

"It's stupid…" she shakes her head a little, suddenly embarrassed.

"Tell me" he gently urges. She sighs and grimaces.

"I thought I saw…" she looks at him again "I could swear that I saw his eyes…change… I saw it twice actually…" she admits.

"Change how exactly?" he asks him even though he already knows the answer.

"They…changed…they turned…black…pure black…just briefly…for maybe a second and i could swear that i saw_...fangs"_ she confides and then gives a self conscious little laugh.

George sits back in his seat and regards her. Oh no. This is not good, not good at all.

"I told you it was stupid" she sighs.

* * *

He tells Nina that he's working some over time but in reality he isn't. He has to see him.

He enters the psychiatric ward unobserved and unnoticed. If anyone asks then he's collecting soiled bedding to take to the laundry and the bin that he's pushing is half full anyway. No one questions. He's pretty much anonymous in this place and its how he prefers it.

Elizabeth said that he was pretty much in lock down which means that he's apart from the patients. He watches them all carefully and pities the harried nursing staff that have to at least try and keep them in check. He holds a sneaking admiration for them; it has to be a thankless task a lot of the time.

He finds where he needs to be and his heart accelerates. His mouth is dry and his stomach is doing somersaults. He hasn't clapped eyes on him for six months and he has no idea how he'll react. He takes a deep breath and pauses by each door and looks in. He isn't in any of them and he continues to search in his roundabout way.

There's one room left at the end of the corridor and its well away from the other patients. George pauses for a moment and argues with himself. He has to see him for himself; he has to see if what Elizabeth has said is true. Mitchell was his friend. He still feels a sense of responsibility for him. He takes another deep breath and continues to walk.

He pauses by the door and closes his eyes briefly. He opens them and takes a step forward to look in.

He's lying on the bed. His hair is a dark tangle against the stark whiteness. His eyes are closed. Thick leather straps are fastened around his ankles and his wrists and George can see that he's out of it, completely out of it. He feels emotion swell in his throat, threatening to choke him. Tears fill his eyes and he swipes them away, he will not cry for him, not any more. He inhales sharply, his hands are trembling. There's a nurse, a big brute of a nurse sitting at a desk, observing Mitchell and writing in a diary of some kind. George doesn't recognise him but he's thankful that it isn't Moorcroft or his crony. The nurse then lifts his head and looks at him. George takes a stumbling step backwards, grabs the linen bin he's been pushing around and leaves.

He feels the warmth of his tears slip down his cheeks as he leaves the ward. He wants to go somewhere quiet, private and let it all out but he swallows it down instead.

He doesn't know how he's going to do it but he needs to get him out of there.


	4. Slither

**Again, many thanks for the reviews. I'm honestly blown away by them. Another update. We start with George and Nina. Mitchell's thoughts are in italics as always. Again, all errors are unintentional and are my own. I'd love to hear your thoughts :) Again, this chapter was written before last night's absolutely incredible episode. **

* * *

**Slither.**

She can see he's distracted. If she's to be absolutely truthful then she noticed his distraction before today, months before today. In fact she knows exactly when all of this started. The day she came home from the hospital and realised that Mitchell was no longer there. His room was empty, his clothes and stuff gone as if he'd never been there in the first place.

Despite it all, she had been used to him. He'd always been there, skulking in the background, always preoccupied, always brooding and always hiding something. He didn't have a reflection and she often thought that it was more than what he was. He was always dark, insidious, and a slightly bit toxic.

George loved him like a brother. She knows how they got together in the first place, a vampire and a werewolf, the two of them, struggling with their secrets but trying to cling to their human sides. Some with greater success than others, so no big surprises there then. She watches him stare at his plate, idly stirring the food round and round.

"What's the matter?" she sighs, unable to take anymore of this stretched silence. He lifts his head up and looks at her. His eyes are wide, he's surprised.

"Nothing…"

"George…" she sighs out and there's a brief silence. He looks down at his plate again and then slowly, carefully puts down his fork. She watches him pause before raising his eyes to look at her again.

"I saw Mitchell the other day" he confesses. She feels a jolt of surprise. She has kind of guessed that this moody silence was about his best friend but it's still quite a shock to hear his name spoken out in the open after six months of banishment. Then she frowns as a thought occurs to her.

"You _saw_ him?" This would mean that he knows where he is and she frowns in confusion. He sighs and looks away again. He rests his head against the palm of one hand.

"Yeah" he confesses and she blinks.

"He's still…he's still _here?_" she splutters. She hadn't questioned where he'd gone once she'd returned from the hospital, she'd just assumed that he'd packed up and moved on. He lifts his eyes and looks at her.

"He never left Nina, he's in Bedlam" She stares at him in shock. Of course she knows what Bedlam is. It's notorious.

"What in God's name is he doing in _there_?" she demands. George straightens up in his seat but he doesn't look at her. He can hear her disgust.

"I put him in there for his own safety" he tells her and the silence afterwards is absolute.

"_His_ own safety? My God George, it'll be like a pick and mix in there for him" This time he does look at her and there's a spark in those blue eyes of his.

"He isn't feeding. He's currently in lock down, out of it on anti psychotic medication and under threat by a nurse in there who just happens to be…one of _us!_" he retorts.

"There's a werewolf working there?"

"Big shock, huh, imagine that?" she rolls her eyes at his vitriol.

"There's a full moon soon and if he's on duty then…" he lets his words taper off. She looks at him.

"If he has any sense George…"

"He has it in for him Nina, Mitchell is on lockdown, he could fix it to lock himself in with him during the full moon and you know it won't be pretty"

"He couldn't get away with it George, too many questions will be asked. He couldn't be that stupid" George rolls his eyes.

"You haven't met the guy; he's not exactly high on Mensa's most wanted list" he mutters. Nina regards him and then she leans across the table and covers his hand with her own.

"George. You have to let go of this" she tells him softly. He looks at her and his expression darkens. He pulls his hand away and she feels the rejection keenly.

"So if a werewolf rips him to pieces, that'll be okay with you?" he bites.

"That's not what I'm talking about…"

"Isn't it?"

"It's because of him that we're in this situation. Did you forget what he _did_?" her voice rises and George stares at her.

"I will never forget Nina"

"Those people on that train…here….he's poison and he's dragging you back into that poison George"

"Oh Nina, he doesn't even know I'm there…you should've seen him, strapped to that bed, so completely unaware. It's…"

"What he deserves?" she fills in and she sees the look of complete shock in his eyes. A tense moment stretches out between them and then he sits back.

"I have to help him Nina; somehow I have to get him out of there"

"How are you going to do that and more to the point, _where_ are you going to take him?" George shrugs almost restlessly.

"I don't know" he admits. Nina sits forward.

"He isn't staying here again" she hisses and he frowns at her.

"I wouldn't bring him here" he defends crossly. She stares at him.

"He has cost us so much George" she reminds him, as if he'll ever forget.

"It's not in me to just abandon him Nina; he saved my life once upon a time"

"And I thought you'd repaid that debt" Slowly he gets to his feet.

"You don't know him like I do, you didn't see him before all of _this_ started. Yeah he's a vampire and yeah, he had his…_issues_ but he was there for me when I needed him…mostly. He was the most loyal friend I ever had and I know he'd do the same for me" his voice becomes shaky as treacherous tears threaten. He swallows.

"I need to do this Nina and I'll do it with or without your approval" a tear leaks out and he wipes it away before turning and striding out of the kitchen. Nina watches him go and she swallows down her anger. Of course he'd want to help him. It was who he was. She shakes her head.

* * *

There's talk of Mitchell being moved to a secure hospital if his condition doesn't improve soon. He's still under constant supervision. Elizabeth watches him. He's always accompanied by two male nurses who watch him like a hawk. His eyes are dull, his senses are slow and it takes a couple of times for instructions to get through to him. He's no longer under lockdown but the nurses are edgy, watchful, news of how he lunged at Elizabeth has gone around. As always, Mitchell seems oblivious to the attention he's creating. He sits in his armchair, curled up, his feet are bare and he's rocking very slightly. His expression seems vacant but she sees him twitch occasionally.

_He's standing there but I'm ignoring him. I noticed him yesterday. He's been whispering to me constantly, the hiss of his words grating, grating, scratching. He thinks he'll get the better of me but he should know by now that I haven't survived this long without a lot of patience. He won't win. He will not succeed._

_I can smell her again. She's watching me too. Pretty nurse girl. I want her. I won't look at her. She'll know, the moment she sees my eyes she'll know. I don't know for how much longer I can hide this. I don't know how much longer I can hide who I am. _

_He's whispering again. I can hear him. I see him as he walks around the other patients. His eyes turn black, he smiles and I can see his fangs. I look away and stare at the floor. I know what he wants me to do but I won't, I won't do it. I'm sick of the bodyguards. Everywhere I go, they follow. What do they expect me to do? Could they really stop me if I did what I'm really good at? Could you just imagine the bloodbath?_

* * *

George stands in the centre of the small room. There's a small cabinet that holds a handful of magazines, a delicate looking mismatched tea cup and saucer that Mitchell had discovered in a charity shop and brought back, giving it to her like it was the Crown Jewels. He looks at the single armchair in the centre of the room and he sighs raggedly. He misses her, he misses her constant, comforting presence but since Mitchell went away, she's kind of faded away, her heart broken beyond repair. He lowers himself down onto the chair. He misses her eternal optimism, which in her case really was eternal as well as her cheery smile and enthusiasm for those close to her very big heart. Mitchell had truly shattered it, crushed it, stamped on it and completely destroyed it.

Annie was gone.

* * *

It's quiet in the dead of night. Elizabeth writes up her notes. Some of the staff are creeped out by the silence but she finds it relaxing. After the busyness of the daylight hours, she welcomes the peace. She looks up when she hears footsteps and her expression freezes when she sees Daniel. He regards her but doesn't offer a greeting and that suits her fine.

_I'm moving. What the hell? I open my eyes and stiffen when I recognise him. It's the dog. I can smell him, it clogs up my sinuses and I almost choke. George never ever smelled this bad. The sleeping meds they've given me make me feel like my head is wrapped in a wet towel. I feel slow, thick headed. He's got a good hold of me and no amount of struggling will help so I stay still and hope someone else comes along. At least this time he doesn't have his little friend with him._

"_Full moon soon" he whispers and smiles almost happily. He loosens his grip and pushes me. I fall back against my bed and hit the floor. It hurts and I'm surprised I can feel the pain through the cloud of medication I've been floating on recently. I shake my head as if trying to clear away the fog but it doesn't seem to be working. I'm sleepy. He grabs me again and half lifts me up I think and shakes me again and my eyes open. The room spins drunkenly and I feel like I can't focus properly. I'm vaguely aware of hearing him swear and then I'm flying backwards. I fall, my back hitting the side of something. The pain briefly sharpens my mind and my eyes pop open and briefly fix on his face. I'm used to seeing hatred but his is especially sharp. _

"_Where's the monster Mitchell?" he whispers against my ear and I don't know what he's talking about, I want to close my eyes again, the pull of the drug is winning its fight. _

_What monster would that be then?_

Elizabeth does another bed check. She sees Daniel at the other end of the corridor and her spine stiffens. They normally don't share a shift but someone has gone on the sick and he's the cover. She has a sneaking suspicion that he's been paying Mitchell a visit. She decides to make a point of checking in on him.

She pauses by his door and looks in. He's slumped on the floor across the room and her eyes widen. She turns and sees Callie following her.

"I need some help here" she calls to her and watches her jog over. Callie peers through the door and she sighs.

"He's fallen out of bed"

"He doesn't fall out of bed Callie and look where he is" she looks at her and rolls her eyes.

"It happens to them all at one time or another. We'd better sort him out" and she waits as Elizabeth unlocks his door.

As they approach, he moves. It's slow, sluggish and he's moving towards his bed.

"Mitchell…" Elizabeth murmurs, crouching down beside him and he stills. It's as though he recognises her voice. She brushes his hair away from his face and lifts an eyelid to see his eye rolling. She looks up at Callie who is frowning.

"He fell out of bed?"She looks back at him. His t-shirt is halfway up his back, exposing his waist, his stomach and she sees the red marks blemishing his lower back. She frowns.

"We need to get him back into bed" she tells Callie, whose eyes widen.

"I'll get Daniel…"

"No!" Elizabeth calls out and Callie freezes.

"Not Daniel. Between us we can do this" She sees how Callie looks warily at Mitchell. She then sighs raggedly.

"Okay"

They manage to get him back into bed. Callie goes off to complete the bed checks. Elizabeth stares at him, a pensive frown on her face. She lifts his t-shirt and does a quick check, noting bruising on his back, his shoulders, places that wouldn't be immediately noticeable. She sees small fingertip sized bruises on the side of his neck, below his ears. She feels the anger begin to rise inside of her.

"Problem Elizabeth?" she freezes when she hears his voice and she turns her head and looks at him. She looks back at Mitchell, who is completely oblivious. She takes a deep breath and draws the sheet over him. She spins around and stalks towards Daniel. She plants her hand in the centre of his chest and she pushes him until his back makes contact with the wall across from Mitchell's room.

"This is your doing…I don't know why but I know you did it and I'll make sure you don't go near him again, ever!" she hisses. Daniel's eyes darken angrily. He grabs her wrist and wrenches it away.

"You don't know what he is!" he quietly snarls at her.

"He's a patient here…he's _sick_…"

"Oh yeah, he's that alright but not in the way you think"

"Meaning?" she demands. The smirk Daniel gives her is annoying and smug. She rolls her eyes. She pulls her hand free, or at least she tries to but he's holding on to her.

"Let go of me"

"You don't ever let your guard down around him do you hear me? Not ever because if you do…you'll regret it" he whispers. Her heart leaps in fright. She pulls her arm free and watches him stride away. She rubs her wrist and then looks back to Mitchell's room, where he's still sleeping.

* * *

It's early and he's stirring. His eyes slide open and he looks up at the ceiling. He can hear the other patients stirring into life too. He listens for a moment. He makes to sit up but his back is hurting, like _really_ hurting and he frowns. He lies back down.

_Full moon soon…_ it whispers alarmingly through his mind and it makes him freeze. Then he catches the drift of a smell, a horrible, acrid wet dog kind of smell and his eyes widen. He turns his head as he hears his door being unlocked and opened. It's the blonde nurse. He frowns when he hears her voice but she isn't speaking.

_He fell out of bed?_

"How are you feeling this morning?" he looks at her. This time she's speaking to him. He looks at her again. She smiles at him, a quick fleeting thing. Slowly he sits up. He frowns again.

"Sore. I feel sore" he admits. The nurse pauses. She slowly turns to look at him.

"Oh…why would that be?" he looks at her, her tone sounds almost…guarded.

"I don't know. I think…I fell out of bed" He swings his legs around so that he's sitting on the side of his bed and she watches him slowly stand up. He sways a little and she automatically reaches out to steady him. He doesn't flinch away this time as he has done in the past. Instead he just looks at her. She slowly lowers her hand.

"Can I check you over? For any injuries?" she asks, fully expecting him to retreat back into silence. Instead he just nods.

"You need to…" she makes a motion with her hand for him to lift up his t-shirt and without questioning, he does so.

Her perusal is quick but professional. His stomach, his chest are unmarked as she expected them to be. He turns around and she breathes in a gasp. His back is scored with livid purple bruising; it looks as though he's made contact with something long and thin. She frowns.

"You're sure you don't know how these happened?" he slowly turns his head to look over his shoulder and then shakes his head.

"No" he mutters but she doesn't believe him.

She has a very good idea how it happened.


	5. Hysteria

**Once more i'd just like to say thank you so much for the reviews and also for sticking with this. Another update. This is close to being complete, there are two, maybe three chapters left in it. As always, errors are my own and again, as always, i love to hear what you think. :)**

* * *

**Hysteria.**

He feels nervous as he walks into the psychiatric ward.

He's spent the last couple of days debating whether he should visit him. He's also spent time researching whether it would be feasible to get him out of there, how he'd do that and where he'd go. He can't just let him loose on the streets. He'd never accept anyone as a carer of sorts and Nina is adamant that he won't be welcome back at the house.

He stands outside the doors again and stares inside. He's done this so many times. Only once did he have the courage to actually go inside and what he saw broke his heart. He closes his eyes. He should walk away from all of this. He's already done so once. It's the thought of Daniel Moorcroft that spurs him on.

It is chaos. George pauses and watches what is going on. There is a whole spectrum going on here, from restlessness and anxiety to close to catatonia. All around he can see the blue uniforms of the nurses and he looks for Elizabeth. He's seen her fleetingly in the cafeteria from time to time but never long enough to speak. He can't see her. He sighs and goes to the desk and he smiles at the nurse sitting there. She looks mildly annoyed.

"Is Elizabeth on today?" he asks her. The nurse frowns.

"Elizabeth… Elizabeth who?" George frowns too as he struggles to think of her surname but realises that it never really got that far, she was just 'Elizabeth' to him.

"Actually I'm not sure, she's a nurse here, so tall, blonde hair…fairly new…" he shakes his head slowly as her look of puzzlement doesn't change.

"You mean Elizabeth Powell?" he spins around and looks at a diminutive redhead who has interrupted and his eyes widen briefly.

"Umm…possibly…" he hedges.

"I'm Callie, I work with her. She's not in til later, her shifts have been a bit…busy…she's supposed to be in but she's doing an extra shift, so she'll be in later this afternoon as well as the nightshift"

George wonders whether its coincidence that her nightshift coincides with a full moon. It's why he's here now and not later. Later he'll be much too…busy.

"You could leave a message?" she suggests but he shakes his head. He turns and looks around. He can't see Mitchell anywhere and he doesn't want to ask.

"Anything I can help you with?" Callie offers and he looks at her. He then takes a deep breath.

"I'm here to see someone actually…John Mitchell?" He tries not to squirm at the look of utter astonishment on her face.

"Oh…he's in his room….do you want me to take you?" he shakes his head. He'll find it.

"Its fine thanks. And… thank you" he tags on and Callie smiles and goes off to help with a patient.

His heart is crashing about in his chest a bit. His mouth is dry but his palms are clammy. He's wondering at Mitchell's state of mind. He'd been out of his head on drugs the last time he'd seen him and it has barely left him since.

He dodges around patients and staff alike. He wonders how Mitchell will react upon seeing him, if he reacts at all.

He's sitting on the side of his bed. George stands in the doorway and looks at him. If Mitchell has heard him then he doesn't show it. He takes a deep breath and goes inside. Mitchell doesn't move, he doesn't turn his head or look. It's like he's in a deep trance or something. George walks cautiously into his room. There's nothing of him in here, there's no sense of it being his room. He could walk out of here tomorrow and nothing about it would change.

"Mitchell" he keeps his voice soft. He doesn't react at all and George crouches down so that he can look into his eyes.

"Mitchell? It's George" he tells him quietly.

_I can hear him. He says that he's George but how do I know that? My room is turning into King's Cross here judging by the frequency of visitors I'm getting. The pretty nurse is a regular visitor, she says she's checking in on me, making sure I'm okay but I don't know. Then there are the others that I see but I'm not sure whether anyone else does. Lia, Becca, Lauren and Herrick has made an appearance once or twice, like malevolent spirits._

_The doctor shot me up with something that makes my head feel like it's full of liquid concrete. I just can't process anything, I can't react to anything and sometimes it just feels safer being locked away like this. I don't want to look at him, he says he's George but how do I know that?_

"Mate" George sighs sympathetically.

He thought his friend would be safe here. He thought that he might find a little…peace here. Here, he's like a shell, he can see its Mitchell on the outside with his handsome looks, dark curls, and dark eyes but on the inside it's like he's…_gone._

"I'm sorry, okay? That you're here. I hear there's a nurse that's been giving you a hard time. I know about it and he won't hurt you anymore. It's a full moon tonight so with some luck he'll be somewhere elseand you'll be safe" He watches him blink. It's slow, almost deliberate as if it's something he needs to remember to do. His face is blank.

"The other nurse…Elizabeth…I've talked to her and she seems…nice" his words peter out as Mitchell slowly raises his head and looks at him.

"I think you can trust her. She seems to have your best interests at…heart" Its unnerving, to be observed like this.

"She's seen you…y'know…your eyes…she's seen it happen so you have to be careful…I don't think the other nurse will blow your cover because it'll blow his too but you have to be careful" He reaches across and puts his hand on his.

"I'm going to try and get you out of here. I don't know how but I'm going to try" he tells him quietly. He watches Mitchell's head go down and he seems to be staring at his hand on his. He then lifts his head and looks at him again. Those dull eyes of his. He's locked away behind them and it breaks his heart all over again. George sighs raggedly and stands up. He sits on the bed beside him and puts an arm across his friend's shoulder. He's unresisting, just not there. He gives him a quick, quick hug and then gets up. He leaves.

* * *

"_Oh my darling boy…"_

_Her voice is soft and husky but it sends a bolt of recollection through me. She stands in the corner of my room and as she walks towards me I catch a drift of her perfume. I can never remember the name of it but it's her. I lift my head and look at her. She stops in front of me and smiles softly. I close my eyes as I feel her hand touch the side of my face. She leans over slightly and her hair brushes against the other side of my face and the scent of her shampoo clouds my mind. My eyes open when I feel a gentle pressure on my forehead and I see her straighten up. _

"_What have you done?" she enquires and I look away again, shame filling me anew. _

"_Something bad…something really… awful" I mumble. I chance a look at her. There's no horror on her face, no disgust or condemnation. She takes my hand and I hold onto it desperately._

"_I'm sorry. I know that's no excuse but I'm so…sorry" emotion thicken my words and I pause and swallow. _

"_I know you are" she sighs out and I look at her again. _

"_I miss you. You always understood me" She never judged me; she never ever condemned me or hated me for what I was. She just loved me, she just loved the man and as always, I fucked it up. _

"_I loved you, I always did" she confesses and I feel tears threaten. _

"_I never did thank you for saving me…back in Bristol" I whisper around the tears and she smiles._

"_You saved me, forty years ago" she replies. She kneels down at my knees and looks up at me. Those jewel like blue eyes of hers, the long brunette hair that falls past her shoulders. Time has made its mark on her body but it barely had time to get started with mine. _

"_You shouldn't be here Mitchell, this isn't you" she tells me. I shrug helplessly. Maybe it is. _

"_You have to leave. Your life depends on it" _

* * *

Elizabeth smiles at Mary. She's a long term resident, with profound learning difficulties, she's a staff favourite. She's full of child like innocence that endears her to everyone, well almost everyone. Elizabeth notices how Mitchell keeps his distance from her. Right now she's sitting in her room, brushing her long hair in slow, rhythmic strokes. Mary likes this, it calms her down and Elizabeth takes her time. She listens to her girlish chatter and feels sorry that this sweet soul is in a place such as this one. She doesn't have a family to take care of her.

"Mitchell gone" she confides to the nurse who pauses.

"Where did he go?" she enquires and she shrugs, an untidy rumple of movement.

"Gone in a wheelchair…with Daniel" she adds and Elizabeth feels her heart plummet to her boots. She continues to brush Mary's hair but she's no longer listening to her chatter. She braids her hair and fastens a pretty ribbon at the bottom and leaves her alone. Her heart is thumping and she's worried. Maybe Daniel has been assigned to take him somewhere but it would be a first if that's the case.

Callie looks up and sees Elizabeth striding purposefully towards her. Her welcoming smile fades at the expression on her face.

"Daniel went somewhere with Mitchell?" she enquires and Callie frowns.

"Not as far as I'm aware, Mitchell isn't allowed off the ward" she watches as Elizabeth turns and hurries to Mitchell's room.

"Oh Jesus" she breathes. Callie stops behind her and peers in.

"What the hell happened in here?" she breathes, her eyes going wide. There are signs of a struggle.

"I don't know" Elizabeth replies. She looks around but can't see either Simon or Neil around. They're short staffed as it is and she can't quell the worry playing havoc in the pit of her stomach. Something is wrong, she doesn't know how but something is wrong.

"That reminds me…someone was asking after you this morning" Callie tells her and Elizabeth frowns at her.

"Who?" Callie shrugged.

"He didn't give his name…but he was about six feet tall, short brown hair, glasses…" It sounds like George. She'd caught him outside the ward once or twice; it was how they had initially made friends.

"I told him you weren't on til this afternoon and he went to visit Mitchell instead…" her voice tapered off at Elizabeth's look of shock.

"Wait a minute, he went to visit Mitchell?" she gasps. Callie nods helplessly, frowning in puzzlement.

"I know…nobody ever visits Mitchell right?…but he asked to see him, asked for him by name…" By now Elizabeth has tuned her out; all that's going through her head is that George knows Mitchell. She looks at Callie.

"I'm going on a break" she tells her and she hurries away before Callie can open her mouth to object.

All that floods through her mind is that George knows Mitchell. Was it pure coincidence that they made friends and she'd talked about him to him too! How does he know him?

She finds out that he's off today and tomorrow. She also discovers that his name is George Sands and that his girlfriend, Nina Pickering is a staff nurse on the geriatric ward. Does she know Mitchell too? She all but runs to the ward but she's not there either, she's also got a couple of days off. She stands in the middle of a busy corridor with people flowing around her and she doesn't know where to begin

She needs to find Mitchell.

* * *

_I remember what she said. She said that I had to get out of here because my life depended on it. I didn't know what she meant at first but then he came in pushing a wheelchair. I wasn't so out of it then to not understand. I understood perfectly. This is what she meant._

"_It's time to have some fun Mitchell!" he announces and he looks so happy about it. _

_I tried to get away from him but whatever they've been giving me has slowed me down, my legs don't work how I want them to, I can't think, I can't fight and as he pins me down and straps me into that straitjacket, I begin to see why. I can hear his heavy breathing as he struggles to do up the straps. He throws me into the chair and we're gone. Nobody notices, at least I don't think so, though Mary might have. She's mentally challenged so she probably wouldn't have paid much attention. I look for Elizabeth, George says I can trust her but I can't see her anywhere. _

_We're going down. No one gives me a first look never mind a second one in this chair and he's covered me up to my shoulders with a blanket. I close my eyes. Maybe this is for the best. Tonight must be the full moon._

_We're in the very bowels of the hospital. I remember a similar place at St Jude's. Where I'd lock George away and the next morning I'd unlock him again with a change of clothes and a can of deodorant. I feel the fear condense in my stomach._

_I know what he plans to do with me. _

_Oh God. _


	6. Fear

**Again, thank you for the reviews. This is close to being done. This is my interpretation of the wolf shaped bullet that has been prophesied for Mitchell. All errors are, as always, my own and unintentional. Elizabeth gets what could be the shock of her life. Thoughts and reviews appreciated thanks :)**

* * *

**Fear.**

Her hands are shaking as she taps in the telephone number that a friend of George's has given to her. She had burst into the men's locker room, startling several of them in various stages of undress, asking in a mildly panicked tone whether any of them knew George Sands and had a contact number. It had taken a moment but someone did and gave her a number and now she is listening to the phone ring and ring and…ring.

Her heart rate accelerates as at the last moment, the phone at the other end is snatched up.

"Yes. Hello?" his tone is short, out of breath, a bit impatient.

"George Sands?" There is a pause before he responds.

"Yes, this is he" his tone is suspicious. She has to wonder a little at that.

"This is Elizabeth Powell from the psych ward" Another pause, a little longer this time.

"Elizabeth…how…." He splutters. How did she manage to get his number? Irritation flashes along with the panic.

"A colleague of yours gave it to me. It's an emergency. It's about Mitchell"

"What….how…." She sighs. She doesn't have time for this, she really doesn't.

"Callie Fletcher mentioned you'd popped by this morning, she also mentioned that you'd gone to see him. I'd demand to know how you know him but I don't have time right now…he's missing"

"Missing how?"

"One of our other residents noticed him being taken away by Daniel Moorcroft. In a wheelchair" she informs him, trying not to panic too much. It seems like George is doing a good enough job for them both judging by the noises he's making on the other end of the line.

"Oh my God" his breathing is rapid and very ragged and for a moment Elizabeth is seriously worried that he's going to have a heart attack or worse.

"Elizabeth. Listen to me. Do you know where the old isolation wards are?" She's never heard of them and she tells him so. He makes a sound of impatience in his throat but it sounds a little painful.

"They're usually away from the main hospital, in the basement. You need to get down there now, you need to find him, get him out of there or find somewhere where you can both lock yourselves in and you can't come out of there til tomorrow morning, do you understand me?" Her mind goes blank for a moment as she tries to absorb all the information he's given her. Lock us both in, what for? It sounds completely bizarre.

"Elizabeth?" he snaps and she blinks.

"Please. I need you to tell me that you understand that you'll do as I ask?" She takes a deep breath. She wants to ask why she has to lock them both away, why can't she take him back to his room?

"I understand" she tells him though in truth, she really doesn't.

"You need to hurry" and he hangs up on her. She stares stupidly at her mobile for a moment or two before his words penetrate and she takes flight.

She runs along the corridor, dodging patients and staff like the hounds of hell are on her heels.

Her heart is pounding out of her chest as she takes the stairs. She ignores the looks that she gets as she barrels past and she ignores the questions. She needs to find them. Something tells her she needs to find them quickly.

It's getting dark. If the isolation wards are down in the basement then there won't be much in the way of lighting going on down there.

It gets quieter the deeper she gets. She slows down as she walks along an empty corridor. There is lighting but its poor, some in need of repair. Doors are taped shut, some are chained and padlocked. There are abandoned gurneys, wheelchairs and other things littering her path and she makes her way around them. Her breathing slowly begins to return to normal but she's vigilant, she's listening and she has no idea of how to deal with Daniel when she confronts him. She pulls her mobile phone out of her trouser pocket and looks at it. No signal. No surprise there. She pushes it back into her pocket.

She pauses when she sees the heavy chain abandoned on the floor, weighted down by a padlock. She crouches down and picks it up. It's thick and weighty but she wraps it around her wrist anyway. She needs all the help she can get. She looks behind her but there's nobody here. She listens. She stiffens when she hears Mitchell yell.

_Come and get me you fucking dog!_

She slips through the double doors and pauses again. She can hear him laughing hysterically, great gulping laughs that are nowhere near humorous.

* * *

_I fall onto the dusty dishevelled floor. Once upon a time this room would've held four beds. I roll onto my back and see the narrow windows above me. It's getting dark, it'll be completely black soon and of course there's a full moon tonight. I realise that this is what he has had planned from the moment he saw me and recognised me. No one will know where I am. We're in the very depths of hell and that's why he chose it. No one will hear me scream. I refuse to feel scared. I won't. This is what was prophesied, this will happen and it will happen now and I will welcome it. It won't hurt, not for long._

_I stagger to my feet which is hard work considering my arms are strapped to my body. In this moment I'm suddenly free, suddenly clear. I turn and face him. He's expecting me to fall to my knees and beg for my life. _

_Obviously he doesn't know all that much about John Mitchell. I smile. _

"_Come and get me you fucking dog!" I yell at him and then I start to laugh. _

_Once I start, it's hard to stop._

* * *

Elizabeth follows the sound. There are four separate rooms, all with heavy steel doors. She peers into each one and it's the last one that holds him, holds them both. It's unlocked. He isn't expecting to be disturbed. She peers through the spy hole and her eyes widen when she sees Mitchell facing Daniel, his arms bound to his body by a straitjacket. She frowns and pushes open the door.

"Mitchell!" she yells and his head snaps around to look at her and his face is a picture of astonishment. She runs towards him, intent on getting him out and to safety. His eyes widen.

"No!" he yells and from her right she hears a growl. She turns her head and she sees Daniel heading towards her. There's such fury on his face. She flings out her arm and the chain starts to unwind and it hits him. His body contorts and an unearthly scream erupts from him. He falls to the floor, his back bowed, blood oozing from a head wound. Elizabeth skids to a halt, momentarily distracted by it. His eyes open and she gasps. They're yellow.

"He's…mine…" Daniel groans desperately and she looks at Mitchell. He's flat up against the wall, staring down at Daniel with wide eyes.

"We need to go!" she tells him and grabs his upper arm but instead of moving with her, he resists. She looks at him and frowns.

"Mitchell. We need to get out of here. Please" He tears his gaze away from Daniel who is starting to get to his feet. She tugs his arm again. He looks at her, his brown eyes are wide. Then he shakes his head.

"No. This needs to happen" he tells her and she's confused. What needs to happen? She turns her head and she looks at Daniel who is now on his feet and he's staring at her with those inhuman yellow eyes.

"He needs to be punished!" Daniel yells at her. She looks back at Mitchell and he's watching him, his expression a mixture of fear and also of resignation.

"He's going to kill you if you stay here" she tells him and he looks at her.

"I know" he replies.

"You don't know what he is" Daniel's face contorts as obvious pain rips through him. He bends over double, his arms across his stomach. Elizabeth witnesses this with alarm and she looks back at Mitchell. He's just watching him, no expression on his face. This doesn't seem to scare him at all. She frowns again, she feels like she's missing a very big point but for the life of her she can't see it.

"Mitchell… George told me to get you to safety and that's what I'll do…" she goes to grab his arm again. Her attention is distracted by Daniel straightening up once more and her eyes widen with horror. His face is distorting, his teeth are huge, yellow, his mouth stretched obscenely wide to try to accommodate them. He snarls and takes another step towards Mitchell, intent clear in those eyes. Elizabeth steps in front of him and she stares at Daniel.

"No." she tells him. She swings the chain at him again and the impact of it knocks him back. She drops it and then grabs Mitchell's arm and she pulls him along. He doesn't resist and they run across the room. Elizabeth pushes him through the open door and she hears Daniel roar. She turns and her eyes widen again. She lets out a scream of terror as she falls through the door behind Mitchell, almost falling on top of him.

She hauls the door shut and leans against it. Daniel throws himself against it and she shudders beneath the impact. Breathless, she looks over to Mitchell to see him sitting on the floor, staring at his feet. She turns her head back and she secures the door by pulling the metal bar across it. Once that's done, her own legs give out and she sinks to the grubby floor. She hears Daniel scream and he sounds like he's in horrific pain. He throws himself against the door again and the impact throws her forward.

"What's going on Mitchell? What's happening to him?" she gets to her feet and peers through the peephole again. Her eyes widen. Daniel is on all fours, his clothing in ripped shreds on the floor. His entire body seems to be changing, contorting, dislocating. She can hear the joints pop and break, muscles tear and rip and other sounds that she can't identify. She slowly turns her head and looks at Mitchell who is still sitting on the floor. She goes to him and kneels in front of him.

"Mitchell? Tell me!" she demands fearfully and he raises brown eyes to look at her. He seems almost reluctant to tell her.

"He's a werewolf" he admits.

Elizabeth's mouth drops open.

"A _what?_" she breathes. He frowns.

"You heard me" he snaps back. He turns his head suddenly as Daniel batters against the door again. It won't hold for much longer. Elizabeth looks back at him. Then she realises that he's still wearing the strait jacket. She moves beside him and begins to unfasten the straps. She pulls it over his head and she watches him slowly roll his shoulders. She throws it across the corridor as Daniel throws himself against the door again. Her eyes widen.

"We need to get out of here" she helps him to his feet and he looks at her. Another bone crunching impact has her heart racing. She grabs hold of his hand and looks at him.

_"Run!"_ she commands.

They run.

In minutes they're out in the corridor. Mitchell watches as she secures the double doors. She looks at him.

"We need to get you back upstairs, back to your room" Her eyes widen as he shakes his head.

"I can't. They'll find him here…he'll kill anyone that comes near him when he's like this" He's pale and his eyes are darting everywhere. He's missed his medication but strangely enough he seems quite lucid. She would've discounted the werewolf claim if she hadn't just witnessed it with her own eyes.

"We'll plead ignorance. You need to get back to your room. I'll just tell them that I found you wandering" he stares at her, he frowns and then he nods.

_I'm still alive. _

_I can see them all around us, dancing around in their rage. So close, so fucking close to getting what they wanted and then she comes in and thwarts them. They must be apoplectic with rage. I focus on her, on her sunshine blonde hair, her perfume that I will recognise amongst a thousand others. Her heart is still pounding; the blood is rushing through her veins. Nobody knows where she is, it would be so easy just to take her now, leave her hidden and get the hell out of here. If there's one thing I'm good at, it's disappearing._

_She turns and looks at me. She smiles._

"Oh thank God for that!" Callie exclaims when she sees them both. Elizabeth keeps a hold of Mitchell's arm and his eyes are on the floor. Elizabeth watches her hurry towards them.

"Where did you wander off to Mitchell?" she enquires and he lifts his head and just looks at her but doesn't answer.

"I think he just fancied a wander, found him near the canteen" Elizabeth interrupts and forces herself to laugh. Callie frowns at her.

"But you said…"

"I think Mary got a little bit confused" she lies and she feels Mitchell tense beside her. She looks at him.

"I think I'll get him back to his room and get him settled if that's all?" Callie nods and watches them both walk past.

His room is still upside down and he stops in the middle of it all.

He watches as Elizabeth straightens up his bed with lightning speed. There isn't much of anything to tidy up, he has nothing with him. At last his room is tidy and she turns and looks at him.

"Daniel won't bother you again, I promise" she's starting to feel shaky. Mitchell watches her.

He lifts his head when he hears his door being unlocked. He scoots backwards until his back is pressed up against the wall and he only relaxes marginally when he sees Elizabeth come in. It had taken her a little while and he sees why. She's carrying two cups. She walks towards him and hands one of them to him. After a moment of trying to wonder why, he takes it. It's warm and he realises that it's tea. The thought makes his throat seize up for a second and he looks down into the cup. He remembers someone else bringing him tea once upon a time.

He watches her sit down on the bed beside him and cradle her own cup. She looks at him.

"I could get into trouble doing this, technically you have a lethal weapon in your hand" she watches him look down at it again. After a brief moment he lifts the cup and takes a sip. It's hot and it's soothing and he holds the cup a little tighter in his hands. Then he looks at her again.

"Thank you" he tells her. She looks at him again and then back at her cup. It's her turn to take a sip. She does and then she lowers the cup but still cradles it protectively.

"You said Daniel…that he's a…"

"Werewolf? Yes he is" he confirms quietly. Her eyes widen. She'd hoped that she'd imagined it, like Mitchell's black eyes. She looks back at him, the question on the tip of her tongue. He's drinking his tea and he seems to be a bit more animated than earlier. There's a spark of something in his brown eyes that doesn't seem to have anything to do with his medication.

"At dawn, you need to go back down to the isolation ward…take some clothes and let him out" he tells her, his voice quiet.

"But won't he come back here…?" he looks at her again. He shrugs.

"He might"

_But this time I'll be ready for him._

He doesn't sleep. Elizabeth sits with him while he drinks his tea. He hands her the cup back and lies down on his bed. She leaves him alone and fully expects there to be nightmares later in the night.

But he's quiet. She checks on him frequently and he's still and seemingly calm. She thinks about Daniel down in the isolation ward and of what she had witnessed; those yellow eyes, those huge teeth and how his body had dislocated and tore itself apart to reshape itself into that unholy looking beast. Mitchell had told her that what she'd seen was a werewolf, the stuff of horror novels and movies but actually existed.

She wonders what else stalks the night.


	7. Lucky

**Apologies for the long update. Laptop problems and the events of the season three finale threw me off balance for a little while. Thank you to those who have read and reviewed, i really appreciate your thoughts. In this chapter, Elizabeth makes a life changing discovery and Mitchell has a decision to make. As always, errors while unintentional, are my own. Love to hear your thoughts :)**

* * *

**Lucky.**

She pauses when she sees George in the corridor. He looks shocked to see her and that she's there in front of him instead of being locked away with Mitchell as he'd instructed her.

"What…" he takes a couple of steps towards her and then halts. If she's standing here, that only means that...

_Oh God…_

"He's in his room" she tells him quietly. His sag of relief is visible.

"Oh thank Christ for that. Is…is he okay?" she just nods and he watches her take something from beneath her scrub top. He realises what it is; clean scrubs and at the same time he understands who they're for. He walks towards her, his hand out.

"Let me deal with this" he takes them out of her hands before she has a chance to argue and she has to admit that she's secretly relieved that he's volunteered to do this. In truth she's a little too scared to deal with Daniel and his werewolf issues right now.

"Is your shift over yet?" he enquires.

"Another hour" she replies.

"How about we meet in the cafeteria afterwards?" he suggests. She stares at him and she's feeling all trembly all of a sudden. He seems to notice and he regards her sympathetically. Then she nods.

"I can do that" she replies. He lifts the clothing and she watches him walk away.

George's heart is thumping in his chest as he takes the stairs down into the basement. It's quiet at this time of the morning and he's glad for it. He doesn't want to be asked about what he's doing here when the answer could very well terrify. He's going down to unlock a werewolf, that revelation could put him in the room next to Mitchell.

He quickly gets to where he's going and it's quiet. As he walks along the corridor, he sees the discarded straitjacket and he pauses when he sees the battered door. He cautiously approaches it and he listens. He can't hear anything.

"Hello?" he enquires. There's no response. He approaches the battered door and peers through the spy hole.

He's lying on the ground. He's naked and dirty. George pulls the bar back across the door and opens it.

"Daniel?" Slowly he approaches him and immediately he smells it and he stops in his tracks.

"Come on, you need to get up" he tells him. He takes a couple more experimental steps towards him. He can smell blood and it's strong. He circles around Daniel and he sees the small drying pool of blood surrounding his head.

"Oh no" he mutters and gets closer. He crouches down and touches his neck. As he expected, he feels nothing and his skin is cold to the touch.

"Shit" he sighs. He turns his head and sees the heavy looking chain nearby and he notices the bloodstained padlock. He looks back to Daniel and he wonders what the hell he's going to do.

He dresses Daniel in the clean scrubs which isn't the easiest thing to do with a dead body. He straightens up and sighs. Obviously someone has brained him with the padlock and the only person responsible for that is Elizabeth. Mitchell was wearing the strait jacket that he found in the corridor outside so he assumes that she took it off him once she'd gotten him out.

He has to admire her bravery. It would've been easy to just crumble in the face of something so extraordinarily horrifying but she seems reasonably calm. Okay, a little pale and shocky looking but she wasn't freaking out. He'll have to tell her about Daniel, she'd realise the moment he doesn't return to work, or alternatively he could tell her that he had gone by the time he'd arrived and she would construe his absence from the ward as shame at being discovered. It still doesn't tell him how to dispose of his body. It was under circumstances such as this one that Mitchell proved to be useful, he always knew someone who knew someone and the problem was dealt with.

* * *

Elizabeth checks on Mitchell before she leaves. He's awake, sitting on the side of his bed and staring at his hands. He looks up as she unlocks the door. She walks over to him and then sits down beside him.

"I spoke to George, he's happy to know that you're safe. I'm sure you'll talk to him soon"

"How do you know George?" he asks her and she looks at him.

"We made friends in the cafeteria. He's someone to talk to. I didn't realise that he knew you til Callie mentioned he visited yesterday, you should be thanking him for saving your life" she keeps her tone quiet and confidential. He looks at her and he just nods.

"He's a good friend to have" he tells her. She stands up and looks at him.

"Stay out of trouble" she tells him and walks out. He watches her leave.

_I try. I really try, but trouble always seems to find me._

* * *

George is waiting for her in the canteen and there's a cup of tea waiting for her. He watches her walk towards him and slide into the seat opposite.

"How's Mitchell doing?" he asks. He watched as she wraps her hands around her cup.

"He's okay, quite calm actually considering last night he came this close to being ripped apart by something that turned into something…unbelievable before my eyes" she replies. He sees the blank look of shock cross her face for the briefest of moments before she seems to shake herself out of it and look at him again.

"Mitchell said it was a…"

"A werewolf?" He watches her eyes widen and her mouth fall open in shock.

"You _know?_" she breathes. He seems to pause before nodding just the once.

"Yes. I know" He watches her frown.

"But how?" He looks down at his own cup and seems to pause for a moment or two.

"You'd be amazed to know what walks and crawls in the shadows Elizabeth. You'd be shocked to learn what exists" he confides quietly.

"Well I know about werewolves now" though her intelligence is screaming at her that it simply can't be, she know what she saw. He looks at her and his expression is very serious.

"Why did that…why did he target Mitchell? He kept telling me to always keep my guard up, that I had no idea what he was" she frowns.

"Some people just take a dislike to other people; mostly it's down to prejudice" He waits for her to begin to connect the dots.

"Wait a minute…if werewolves exist like you say…what else is there out there?" she asks and he takes a deep breath and removes his glasses.

"Ghosts, ghouls, zombies and…vampires" He watches her eyes widen.

"You've seen them?" He just nods. Her eyes go wide and she goes a little pale.

"Are you all right?" he asks when she doesn't say anything. She shrugs untidily.

"I don't know…you just told me that there are such things as monsters, actual _proper_ monsters and not a phrase used to describe the morally corrupt" she tells him.

"You can't tell anyone about what you saw last night" he tells her in a quiet voice and she rolls her eyes.

"Do you think anyone would _believe_ me George?" she whispers back.

"Actually you'd be surprised what people believe" he answers. She watches as he drains his cup and gets to his feet.

"I have to start my shift in about five minutes. You're tired Elizabeth, you've had one _hell_ of a night so I suggest you go home, get some sleep and think on things" he suggests. She sighs and just nods, too tired to argue.

* * *

Mitchell sees George appear on the ward at lunchtime. He's wearing his blue scrubs so he's at work. Mitchell is sitting alone in his armchair but this time he's more watchful, more aware, he hasn't seen the dog yet. He watches him walk over to him and sit down opposite. His smile is friendly which is kind of a shock to Mitchell, considering his last words to him back at the house had been brutal.

"Hey Mitchell, want to take a walk with me?" he suggests in a quiet voice and he frowns back at him.

"Why?" he asks and George blinks, a little taken aback that he's actually spoken to him.

"Because I asked?" he replies instead and he stands up. Mitchell slowly copies him and rises to his feet. Mitchell stares into his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" he asks. George regards him.

"You're more with it today so you haven't been taking your pills like a good boy" he tells him and Mitchell frowns again.

"Come on" he tells him and walks ahead of him. Mitchell has no option but to follow.

George slows down in the emptier corridor and waits for him to catch up.

"I spoke to Elizabeth earlier; she's a bit…shocked"

"About the dog?"

"Wouldn't you be? She's starting to question other…things" he pauses.

"It's only a matter of time before she realises that you're…different too"

"Have you told her?" He watches his eyes widen.

"Of course I haven't but she's a bright girl, she'll make the connection…she's seen your eyes change remember but right now she just thinks she's imagined it…both times" Mitchell looks away.

"In the meantime, we need to get you out of here and soon before she asks the wrong people the right questions…or is that the right people the wrong questions…." He shakes his head as he confuses himself.

"Where would I go?"

"Well you can't stay here anymore" They begin to walk again. Neither of them speak for a little while. They pause outside of his room.

"See you again soon, eh?" George asks. The look Mitchell sends him is long. He turns and goes into his room. George watches him for a second more before turning back the way he came.

* * *

Elizabeth doesn't see Daniel when she returns to work the following evening. She finds it hard to come to terms with what she witnessed, with what George divulged but she's also very curious to know more.

Mitchell is watchful, he's waiting for the dog to make his appearance, because he will and because he was thwarted, this time he'll make sure that he'll be successful. It's late but he can't sleep. Nothing really new there but he's more afraid to close his eyes just in case. He sees Elizabeth but they don't speak.

His head snaps up when he hears his door unlock. He tenses, ready to bolt if he has to. Nerves roll in his stomach. If he has to, then the dog will see the side of him that he's been craving. The door eventually opens and he relaxes marginally when he sees Elizabeth. She's carrying two more cups of tea. He watches her approach him and she hands one of the cups to him which he takes.

"This is getting to be a habit" he tells her as he takes a sip. She sits down beside him.

"Do you want me to stop?" she asks and he glances sideways at her. He shakes his head. He's missed drinking tea like this.

"No" he admits.

"Then I won't" she tells him and takes a sip from her own cup.

* * *

Nina looks up when George comes into the kitchen. He's a little pale and she can see his preoccupation.

"What's wrong?" she asks him. He looks at her and sighs raggedly.

"Mitchell is okay. Elizabeth managed to get to him in time, he was in the isolation ward and she also managed to get him back up to his room" he tells her.

"That was brave of her" she watches him shrug off his jacket and hang it up.

"She also now knows that Daniel was a werewolf" he adds and her eyes widen.

"What do you mean _was?_" she demands and he looks at her, his expression is sad.

"He's dead. He received a head injury. I found a chain in the room with him with a bloodied padlock"

"You think it was Mitchell?" she breathes and he shakes his head.

"The bastard had him in a straitjacket. It must've been Elizabeth" Nina's eyes widen.

"Oh my God"

"I dealt with it but Elizabeth mustn't know, she's still in a state of shock about what she saw, this might just push her completely over the edge"

"Excuse me, but you _dealt_ with it?" she demands and he just stares at her. His expression is unapologetic.

"What did you expect me to do Nina? Leave him there where he could be discovered and have the police crawling everywhere and asking unwelcome questions?" he shakes his head and then rubs his hands over his face.

"I'm tired, I'm going to bed" he mumbles and she watches him leave.

* * *

He feels himself tense when he sees her standing in the doorway. She doesn't wait for an invitation and he watches her come into his room.

"Nina" he murmurs.

"Mitchell" she responds neutrally. He watches her drag a chair across and she sits opposite him. He looks away, feigning interest in the floor, his feet, in anything but her.

"How are you doing?" she asks and he shrugs awkwardly. He wants to know what she's doing here; he thought that he would be the last person she'd want to be anywhere near.

"George doesn't know that I'm here" she informs him. Slowly he lifts his head and he looks at her.

"Then why are you?" he asks.

"To see you for myself, and to…ask…you to …not get him involved…again" her voice is quiet and hesitant.

"I didn't" He didn't ask him to visit both times. Nina sighs.

"I know you didn't. He told me that you were…umm…out of it….but seeing you…now"

"Lucid?" he adds.

"Yeah. It worries me. He feels responsible for you…still and I can see him getting wrapped up in you again" she leans back slightly and he watches her scratch the back of her head. She pauses when he frowns darkly.

"You've never tried to understand our relationship did you? Not once" he keeps his voice low.

"He's loyal to you"

"Not all the time. When you were…what happened…afterwards…he told me that I didn't exist anymore, that he wasn't my friend…."

"And yet he was the one who put you in here. He didn't tell me that he had, I thought you'd just…left" she takes a deep breath.

"You were right…about Herrick. You tried to save me, the baby…you tried to warn us but we didn't want to listen" she looks uncomfortable.

_She was lying at the bottom of the stairs, a wound in her side pulsing blood. I see him standing at the top, the dripping knife in his hand. I watch him lift the blade to his lips and take a taste. The expression on his face blissful. I remember how he smiled._

"_Ahh…revenge…so cold...so bloody" he sighs melodramatically and I feel the rage swell inside of me._

_I don't remember killing him._

"All George saw was me" and that was enough for him to lose all sense of clarity. His utter rejection was the main reason why he was here, his reappearance now confusing him. He remembers how George had rushed at him, a mixture of rage and panic in his eyes. He had pushed him, pushed him so hard that he'd been knocked clear of his feet. Mitchell looks at Nina.

"You can come back to the house…" she begins to tell him but he shakes his head.

"I can't go back there" he knows that. There are ghosts of a different kind haunting him there.

"Where will you go?"

"Somewhere. I've managed this long, I don't want you to worry, tell George not to visit me again"

Nina's eyes widen.

"He won't accept that, you know he won't"

"He's going to have to. I need to get away, far away from here and the fewer people who know where I am, the better"

"And how are you going to do that? You have no money, no job"

"It's not your problem"

"Mitchell. You're on a psychiatric ward, you just can't walk out of here" she argues in a low voice.

"I'm not going to" he tells her and she frowns in confusion.

"It's none of your concern Nina; I'd appreciate it if you'd leave now"


	8. Fine Again

**Again, many many thanks for the great reviews. For Elizabeth, the shocks continue. Thanks to Carl (from S2) for the inspiration for this chapter. All errors are my own and as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts. :)**

* * *

**Fine Again.**

_**A few days later...**_

She makes tea, adding two teaspoons of sugar into one of the cups. As she slowly stirs it, she realises that it's becoming a habit of theirs, sharing cups of tea late in the evening. Mitchell doesn't seem to mind her company and though they don't talk very much, it feels companionable.

His door hasn't yet been locked and she looks through the window. He's lying on his bed, on his side facing away from her. She frowns. It's unusual for him to be so quiet this early. She opens the door and carries the cups into his room. The stillness is unnerving.

"Mitchell?" she keeps her voice soft. He doesn't respond and she pauses. Maybe he's sleeping, or he's decided he doesn't want any company and is feigning it. She puts the cups down on the tiny cabinet beside his bed and she looks at him. She gently places her hand on his shoulder and frowns at how cold it feels.

"Mitchell?" she repeats and she rolls him onto his back. He flops over and its then she notices his pale white skin and the slight blue tinge of his lips. Shock swells and alarm prickles inside of her.

"Oh my God, Mitchell!" she raises her voice and shakes his shoulder. His head lolls but his eyes don't open.

"Elizabeth?" she lifts her head when she hears Simon's concerned voice.

"It's John Mitchell, he's unresponsive…I thought he was sleeping…" she stammers and Simon's eyes widen in alarm. He hurries over and she watches as he presses his ear to his chest and then two fingers against his neck. He frowns and then looks at her.

"We need a gurney immediately and let A and E know we're on our way" something catches his attention on the bed and he reaches across and picks it up. Between his thumb and forefinger is a pill. His frown deepens.

"Possible sleeping pill overdose" he tells her.

* * *

She stands in the corridor and watches the gurney race past with Mitchell on it. Simon is astride him, doing chest compressions. He hasn't stopped for a moment but Mitchell hasn't reacted, he hasn't even opened his eyes. Her heart is hammering in her chest. Her stricken gaze turns to Neil who is the last to emerge from his room.

"Sleeping pills, no idea how many he's taken because he's been hoarding them" he sighs and she swallows.

"He seemed to be making such good progress, he seemed to have turned a corner" she tells him. Neil looks at her.

"You like him" It's not an accusation and she's grateful for it. She shrugs in response.

"You have to be realistic Elizabeth; he's been here for what...six months? I think if you're honest with yourself this type of…outcome isn't unexpected"

"This _type_ of outcome?" she hisses angrily.

"It's a psych ward, suicides are commonplace, they do happen" He watches her eyes widen and his own soften in understanding.

"Your first one…and it happens to someone you've grown fond of" he touches her shoulder.

"Maybe we got to him in time…" she hopes.

"He was cold Elizabeth, without a heartbeat or a pulse…" his voice tapers off. She inhales shakily and wipes at her eyes.

"I need to make a call" she tells him and walks away.

* * *

She stands outside the ward and takes a deep breath and pulls her phone out of her pocket. For a moment she stares at it as she contemplates what she's going to say. She calls the number and listens to it ring.

"Hello?" her throat tightens when she hears George's voice.

"George? It's Elizabeth Powell. I'm sorry…but you have to come to the ward…it's Mitchell"

Nina watches George slowly replace the telephone receiver.

"What's the matter?" he looks at her.

"That was Elizabeth Powell. Mitchell's taken an overdose…it doesn't look good" he stares into space for a moment.

"Does she know what Mitchell is?" he looks back at her and he shakes his head.

"She doesn't know…but she sounds…upset" he turns.

"Where are you going?" she demands and he pauses.

"To the psychiatric ward"

"Is that such a good idea? You know the overdose won't kill him"

"But she doesn't know that. He has no heartbeat or pulse anyway. A few days ago she saved him from a werewolf attack and now as far as far as she's concerned, he's taken an overdose and died, she's _upset_" his voice sharpens. He turns again.

"I saw Mitchell earlier" she confesses and again he freezes. He turns back around and his look is speculative.

"Why would you do that?" he asks in a cool voice.

"I wanted to see him. I wanted to tell him that he wasn't to blame for what happened to me. Oh I wanted to blame him but I realised that I brought Herrick into our house; he warned me that he was dangerous and he was right. I wanted him to know that" His eyes widen.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demands.

"I was going to! But Mitchell has this hold over you that I just can't touch!"

"It's not a _hold_! Nina he's the closest thing I have to a brother. When I say that he saved my life once, I mean it, literally!"

"I know that" she rolls her eyes. She takes a deep breath.

"He told me…George he doesn't want you to visit him any more" It has the same effect as a bomb detonating between them and for a moment George just stares at her, his mouth opening and closing.

"Because he's planning on doing this stupid bloody thing that's why and he _knows_ that I'd stop him!" he exclaims.

"The overdose can't kill him" she reminds him.

"But he intends to walk away once the dust has settled, vanish into the ether as if that's what I want"

"But it's what _he_ wants George" her tone gentles.

"Well that's his tough luck because I won't let it happen. I can't!" he turns again and leaves, his mind in turmoil.

* * *

He's carrying a bag when he arrives at the hospital and he heads for the psychiatric ward. He buzzes and waits for access and after a moment it's granted.

The staff are busy; it seems Mitchell's drama has unsettled the patients. He doesn't see Elizabeth.

"George, right?" he sees the red haired nurse from his previous visit. He nods.

"Elizabeth is in the staff room, she said you'd probably come, she's pretty upset…Mitchell didn't make it…" her voice is hesitant. George swallows.

"Is it okay for me to go through and see her?" she nods and points to a white door behind the main desk.

"She's in there" He smiles his thanks and goes inside.

* * *

Elizabeth is sitting beside another nurse, who is watching her carefully. He lifts his head and regards George. At the same time, Elizabeth looks up. She's pale; her eyes are swollen and wet.

"George" she whispers and he goes towards her. He glances awkwardly at the other nurse.

"You're a friend of Mitchell's?" he asks and George nods. The nurse stands up.

"I'm Simon, I was with him…" his words trail off and George just nods.

"Thanks" he whispers. He looks back at Elizabeth.

"Would you mind…?" Simon shakes his head and George watches him leave.

George sinks down onto Simon's recently vacated seat.

"Elizabeth?" he keeps his voice low and after a moment she looks at him.

"I'm sorry George…I didn't think he'd do something like this" she whispers tearfully and he reaches across and touches her hand.

"No one did" he answers. She wipes at her eyes with the crumpled tissue she's been worrying.

"He seemed to be doing better. He was talking more, he was never very talkative but he was trying. I had no idea…he was hoarding his sleeping pills. I should've checked I should've been more _thorough_" fresh tears well in her eyes and trickle down her cheeks. She sucks in a deep breath.

"It's so stupid…"

"No it isn't. You looked after him in here, you saved his life" she turns her head and stares into his eyes.

"So that he could do _this_, take an overdose of sleeping pills?" she hisses. George blinks. It's on the tip of his tongue to tell her the truth, that he's not dead, not in _that_ sense anyway. In a little while he'll come to in that morgue and hope to make a silent, surreptitious escape. He plans to be there waiting for him and they're going to have words.

"I'm sorry; I wish that there was something I could say that would make you feel better. Maybe you should go home for today?" she shakes her head at his suggestion.

"And do what George? Stare at the four walls? It won't stop me thinking about him or wondering if there was something that I could've done to help him. At least here I can keep busy"

"Elizabeth…" she looks at him again.

"I'll be okay George. I've just had a shock. It was my first suicide, in this line of work it probably won't be my last, I'll get over it" her voice shakes with her brave words and he just regards her.

"All right, if you insist but I'll check in with you on occasion, call it a pathological need" he smiles very faintly. He squeezes her hand.

"You have my number, stay in touch okay?" she nods and he gets to his feet. She watches him walk out and she feels fresh hot tears brew in her already overburdened eyes.

* * *

His heart is thumping in his chest as he walks down to the morgue. He needs to get there as quickly as possible and he worries that he'll miss him and he will have already left.

He's surprised to find the room empty. There are several gurneys lined up, their occupants covered by blue sheets and for a moment he pauses and looks at them. He takes a breath and goes to the first one and checks the toe tag. He moves on to the next one.

He's at the end of the line. He checks the tag; all it contains is his name, there's no date of birth. Wouldn't they get a surprise if they discovered his true age? He goes to the head of the gurney and he draws back the sheet.

Even though he knows Mitchell isn't dead in the truest sense, it's still a jolt seeing him lying there as if he was. His skin is waxen pale and his lips are blue. He can imagine Elizabeth got quite a shock seeing him like that. He regards him and then he goes to find a stool to sit on, he could be in for quite a wait.

* * *

His eyes open.

"Good evening!" Shock has him snapping his head to his right and he sees George sitting there.

"What are you doing here?" he demands huskily. George tilts his head to the side.

"Really? This was your grand plan? A drugs overdose?" he drawls and he gets to his feet and helps Mitchell to sit up. He blinks, his head spinning woozily. He feels nausea churn dangerously in his stomach. George sees his frown.

"Ahh…that will be those sleeping pills you ingested…feel like you want to puke?" he turns his head, looking for a receptacle. He finds one, gets it and shoves it onto his lap as Mitchell's stomach finally rebels. He waits patiently until he's finally finished. He takes the bowl and dumps it in the nearest sink. When he turns, Mitchell is sitting on the side of the gurney and despite his eternal life he looks a little green around the gills.

"How did you know?" his voice is hoarse. George returns and sits back down on the stool.

"Elizabeth called me. She was the one who found you. How could you do that to her?" Mitchell lifts his head and looks at him but he doesn't answer.

"She saved you from Daniel, she's devastated, and she thinks that you're _dead_!"

"I didn't ask her to do any of that"

"The point is Mitchell that she did; she's wondering why she helped you get away from Daniel only to do this!" Mitchell sighs.

"It's done and I need to get out of here"

"Then it's just as well I brought you some clothes isn't it?" he hefts the bag up and puts it in his lap. He stares down at it for a moment.

"I didn't want you to be involved, I told Nina…"

"I know what you told Nina and you really don't know me at all if you think I would just leave you here" Mitchell frowns again.

"But you said…" his words falter.

"I said many things Mitchell, a lot I don't remember but I was reacting to the situation that was unfolding around us. I've had six months to think and to…regret. I should've been more…aware of what was going on with you. After what happened…at that place and Lucy…I should've known something was seriously wrong" Mitchell lifts his head and he looks at him.

"None of this is your fault so don't blame yourself. What I did…is on me and me alone and I have to deal with the consequences which is why I need to leave" George's eyes widen.

"Leave? _No!_" he exclaims and Mitchell's expression changes, becomes tragic.

"I can't stay here and I can't expect you or Nina to up and leave again. I'm no good George, I taint every life I touch!" he exclaims but George shakes his head.

"You can't leave" he tells him.

"I _have_ to. You know that I have to. I need to go somewhere quiet, remote, away from people, away from those that I love, it's just safer" his voice lowers.

"You are my best friend Mitchell, I won't let you walk away" Mitchell looks down at the bag on his lap.

"George. You can't stop me" he tells him, his tone final. George swallows. He opens his mouth to argue some more.

"Oh my God" a voice whispers in shock. Both men turn their heads and their eyes widen when they see her just inside the door. They've been so involved in their argument that neither of them heard her come in. Elizabeth regards them both with wide blue eyes. George sees how the colour washes out of her face and she seems to sway on her feet. He jumps to his own.

"Elizabeth?" he glances at Mitchell who is also staring at her in wide eyed astonishment.

"But…they said…" her words taper off but her mouth opens and closes. She gives a little gasp and then turns and bolts through the door.


	9. A Second Chance

**Thank you to those still keeping up with this and leaving reviews, always appreciated :) This fic has continued to exceed even my expectations, i mean, chapter nine after what was only supposed to be a one shot...wow. Anyhow, this chapter deals with the revelations of the end of the last chapter. All errors are my own and as always, i'd love to know what you think. Thank you again :) **

* * *

**A Second Chance.**

George catches up to Elizabeth just outside of the morgue doors.

"Elizabeth…wait" he begs. Her pace quickens but he easily catches up to her.

"Please" he grabs her shoulders and her hands come up to push him away.

"He's _dead_…Simon told me that they couldn't revive him…couldn't save him, that the pills were too toxic" she informs him in a breathless rant.

"You need to calm down" he tells her.

"Are you telling me that the hospital made a _mistake?_ Because he's not dead, I saw him, I _heard_ him talking to you…" her eyes widen as the doors to the morgue swing open and Mitchell emerges. He's in the process of pulling on a t-shirt and his eyes are wide.

"What's going on?" Elizabeth demands "What are you?"

The two men exchange a look.

"What were you doing here?" George asks her instead. She looks at him and then she looks at Mitchell.

"They told me to take the rest of the shift off…to go home and get some sleep but I couldn't get _you_ out of my head, I couldn't stop thinking about what you'd done or why so I thought I'd come here and maybe…sit with you…" her words taper off.

"Why?" Mitchell demands.

"Why not…I thought…" her voice fails and she swallows instead. She lifts a hand and scrubs at her face. She looks tired all of a sudden.

"I don't know what I thought. Maybe I didn't like the thought of you being in here by yourself" she shrugs.

"You shouldn't have…" Mitchell tells her.

"Well I _did_…and you didn't answer my question. What are you?" she retaliates and again the two men exchange a look.

"Elizabeth" George sighs.

"George" Mitchell warns and George shoots him a furious look.

"What… all of a sudden you're Jesus Christ and you can rise from the dead? Mitchell she deserves to know the _truth_!" he argues. He looks back at her.

"Remember back at the cafeteria when I told you that you'd be shocked to learn about what existed in the shadows?" He watches her nod.

"About werewolves, ghosts and such?" she clarifies and George nods. His hands tighten briefly on her shoulders and he stares into her eyes.

"Well Mitchell…he's…one of them" he tells her in a gentle voice. She frowns at him and then she looks at Mitchell. He's standing just behind George and his expression is tense, watchful.

"What are you?" she asks him again, this time curious. He glances away for a moment before fixing her with a hard look.

"I'm…I'm a vampire" he admits.

* * *

He watches her eyes widen and George holds tightly onto her as her knees sag in shock.

"Eliza_beth_?" George's voice rises in alarm. She's gone extremely pale. She then looks at him and her hands grip the front of his shirt.

"I'm okay" she whispers even though her head swims a little from the shock of it. She looks back to Mitchell.

"The black eyes…" she murmurs and he frowns. He glances at George.

"I told you she saw them" George reminds him.

"Twice" Elizabeth adds. Mitchell looks away.

"I'm sorry about that"

"Actually…I thought that I was losing my mind, so please…don't worry about it" she replies and she straightens up. She looks at George again.

"I'm really okay" she assures him and slowly he releases his hold on her.

"Usually if a person finds out someone is a vampire then their first reaction is either to scream, faint or beg for mercy" George quips. Elizabeth takes a deep breath.

"I witnessed a werewolf transformation a few nights ago, I don't scream or faint" she glances at Mitchell.

"And I won't beg for mercy" He watches her. She's very pale and he can hear her heart racing.

All three of them turn as they hear voices outside of the morgue. Mild panic crosses both George and Mitchell's faces.

"This way" George tells them, he grabs Elizabeth's wrist as they begin to hurry away.

* * *

They emerge into the outside and its pitch dark. Elizabeth looks up at the black sky and she realises that she has no idea what time it is. She looks to George and Mitchell to see Mitchell do the same. He seems to take a deep breath and then his arms curl around his stomach and he bends over. She goes to him. He looks at her.

"Are you okay?" she asks him in quiet concern. He frowns for a moment.

"Feel a bit sick that's all"

"From the tablets?" he just nods. He watches her take something out of her bag which she has strapped over one shoulder. It's a bottle of water and she hands it to him.

"I can imagine you were sick to your stomach earlier, so take small sips of that otherwise you'll just throw up again" She looks around and in the murk she sees a bench.

"Over here" she tells him, slipping an arm across his back. It makes him feel mildly uncomfortable but he doesn't argue and allows himself to be led. George follows at the rear.

They sit down on the bench and Elizabeth watches him open the water bottle and take a sip.

"So what happens now?" she asks them both. She watches Mitchell and George exchange a brief look.

"I leave" he tells her and George shakes his head.

"No you're not. You're coming back to the house" Mitchell begins to shake his head.

"I told Nina and I'm telling you, I'm not going back there"

"So you're going to sleep rough is that it? How very _noble_ of you"

"George…

"No Mitchell…for once…"

"You could stay with me…for a little while…til you get yourself sorted out?" Elizabeth interrupts and she sees them both stare at her with wide eyes and open mouths. She almost laughs.

"I couldn't" Mitchell retorts.

"Why not?" she asks him calmly.

"Because I barely know you for a start!" She rolls her eyes.

"What do you want to know?" she asks him. He just stares at her in amazement.

"Ten minutes ago you found out that I was a cold blooded predator and now you're offering me a place to stay?" his voice rises.

"Those are your words not mine Mitchell and it would only be for a little while, I'm not asking you to move in permanently, as George has already asked, what are you going to do? Sleep rough?" He sighs raggedly and pulls his free hand through his hair.

"It would be better if I did. Elizabeth, what you're offering is noble but you don't know the first thing about me" he replies.

"Then why don't you tell me? There's an all night diner around the corner from here, perhaps we could go there, drink some really good coffee and discuss our options?" she suggests.

"Why are you doing this?" he demands to know, unable to believe what he's hearing. He glances at George who just shrugs surreptitiously before looking back at Elizabeth.

"Are you for fucking real?" he sits back on the bench and takes another sip of water.

"It was just a suggestion" she replies calmly though inwardly her heart is hammering in her chest.

"What do you have to lose Mitchell?" George asks in a low voice.

"Everything" he hisses back and stares moodily ahead.

* * *

The diner is empty as the trio make their entrance.

"Grab a table. Three coffees?" George enquires and they both nod. He nods also. He needs the kick; he's starting to feel jittery that has nothing to do with caffeine.

Elizabeth and Mitchell sit opposite each other at a small table while George goes to the counter. He doesn't speak to her, for a while he studiously avoids her gaze. She watches him.

_He's a vampire. It explains so much. She hadn't imagined those black eyes. She wonders how old he is, where he's from and what he's seen of this world. She imagines that he's seen a lot._

"Coffee won't be long" Elizabeth flinches when she hears George's voice and he drops into the seat beside Mitchell.

"Where do you want to start?" Mitchell asks her. She gets the distinct impression that he really doesn't want to talk about himself.

"How about at the beginning?" she suggests and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. His gaze flicks over her shoulder and seconds later, the diner owner is at their table, serving up their coffee. A couple of moments pass where they add milk or sugar or both to their drinks. Elizabeth prefers hers without sugar and just the briefest dashes of milk. She stirs it slowly and waits for him to begin.

"It's…complicated" he hedges. She stares at him.

"You don't have to tell me your entire life story Mitchell, What's your date of birth?" his eyes flare with surprise.

"July 29th…1893" he tells her. He sees the shock in her eyes as she mentally calculates his age.

"So you're…wow"

"Yeah"

"How long have you been a vampire?" she lowers her voice slightly. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a sip but doesn't really taste it.

"Close to a century, give or take a few years, I was recruited in 1917" She frowns.

"Recruited?"

"Turned…changed…made into a vampire" he tells her impatiently and she slowly nods.

"Okay" she replies.

"I've killed more people than you can imagine" he tacks on and watches her eyes carefully.

"Living as long as you have, I can imagine that you have" she replies and his eyes narrow.

"Are you trying to scare me Mitchell? I work in a psych ward, I don't scare easily" she reminds him.

"You were scared of Daniel" he snips and her eyes narrow this time.

"I saw him change into something terrifying Mitchell, I defy anyone not to be scared of him" she argues back in an undertone.

"Didn't George tell you?" he sends his friend a sly sideways glance that has him straightening in his seat.

"Mitchell…" He makes a show of widening his eyes.

"I thought we were all about being honest and telling the truth now George or doesn't that apply to you?" George frowns at him.

"I'd forgotten how much of a fucking tosser you can be sometimes" he snarls at him. Instead of looking ashamed, Mitchell offers a short, humourless smile.

"Kettle. Pot and all of that" he snaps back. George huffs out a sigh and looks at Elizabeth.

"I knew about Daniel before you did because…I'm the same…I'm… a werewolf" he tells her and again shock envelops her as she takes in this mild mannered, sweet person and can barely believe that he transforms into what she had witnessed back then in the old isolation wards.

"Which is why you couldn't help out that night after I called?" he just nods. She looks back at Mitchell.

"And Daniel targeted you because of what you are?" Mitchell also nods.

"Traditionally vampires and werewolves are enemies" he supplies. Her eyes slide between them both as she absorbs this piece of information.

"But you both seem to get along okay?"

"Most of the time we do. Mitchell saved my life once and we took it from there"

"So what happened for you to end up at Bedlam?" She looks back at Mitchell and he looks away. She gets the message straight away. He doesn't want to talk about it. Whatever it is, it was big.

"It's doesn't matter" she quickly tells him. If it gets that far, perhaps he'll tell her one day.

He looks back at her.

"But it does, it always does. You should just let me go, believe me, it'll be easier" he hisses at her.

"Mitchell…" George interrupts tiredly. He turns his head and glares at him.

"Should I tell her? Should I tell her what I did and what it cost?" he hisses at him.

"Go ahead Mitchell; you're very intent on having your temper tantrum so why should I stand in your way?" George sighs tiredly in response. Elizabeth watches him push his seat back and get to his feet.

"I don't need this. I don't need any of this" he growls and they both watch him storm out. For a moment George and Elizabeth gawk at each other in amazement.

"Oh for fucks sake" he sighs and gets up and follows. Elizabeth does like wise, her coffee untouched.

* * *

She sees George and Mitchell further up the street. George has his hand on Mitchell's chest as if holding him in place and Mitchell looks furious. George turns his head as Elizabeth approaches them.

"I think I'll take him home" he tells her and she just nods.

"I'm not some fucking child you can order about!" he snarls and George looks at him.

"Physically you're not but emotionally you're doing a very good impression of one" he tells him calmly. Mitchell wrenches himself free of George's grasp.

"I'm not going back there"

"Mitchell, you're feeling the effects of the overdose and you need to rest" Elizabeth tells him. The look he sends her is dark. She refuses to feel intimidated.

"I'm offering you my spare room for a few days, that's all" she tells him. She looks at George. He doesn't look all that happy.

"George, you're more than welcome to come along and check it out" she tells him. George looks at Mitchell.

"It's your decision Mitchell; it's either with me or Elizabeth's spare room. You're not walking away and you're definitely not sleeping rough so what's it going to be?"


	10. Abrasive

**The chapter title is more to do with Mitchell's state of mind more than anything else. Thoughts appreciated. Errors are my own. **

* * *

** Abrasive.**

Elizabeth unlocks the front door of her little flat and opens it. She looks at them both over her shoulder.

"Please forgive the mess" she apologises with a quick smile and goes inside. George steps over the threshold but Mitchell pauses. Elizabeth frowns at him.

"Umm…I need to be…invited" he stumbles and her expression lightens.

"Of course. Please, come in" she invites and he steps over.

It's a small flat. Both men take in their surroundings.

"It's tidier than the house" George mutters as they go into a small square shaped living room.

There's a sofa, an armchair, a coffee table and a television. All around is the sign of her occupation, newspapers, magazines and books are scattered here and there. They watch her gather them up.

"I don't usually have…guests" she admits with a shy smile.

"It's fine" George murmurs. He watches her go out of a door before turning to look at Mitchell.

"You'll be okay here?" Mitchell looks at him but doesn't immediately reply.

"What other choice do I have?" he eventually mutters.

"You could start by being nice to her, she doesn't have to do this but she offered"

"I don't need a fucking babysitter George" he hisses back.

"Right now you do because you took it on yourself to take an overdose, hoping to make a quiet exit but you didn't think about the consequences and you're just pissed off because now you have to face up to it" George retaliates under his breath.

"Because _you_ said you'd get me out of there"

"And I would have if you'd let me sort something out!" he hisses back and his conversation is cut short by Elizabeth's return. She looks at them.

"Your room is through here" she tells Mitchell and he follows her.

The room is tiny, there's barely enough room for the single bed that occupies it. There's also a cheap looking bookcase that is crammed full of a wide variety of reading material.

"The bathroom is back that way" she points back across the living room "and my room is next door" she tilts her head to her left and he slowly nods. His eyes scan the interior. It's cosy despite its size. There's a single window that looks out onto the street below. The sky is beginning to lighten and he suddenly feels very very tired. Elizabeth seems to realise this and she looks at George.

"I'll give you my contact information" George exchanges a look with Mitchell and then follows her out.

He watches her write her contact information on a notepad and rip the page out. She hands it to him. He takes it and looks at it.

"Will you be okay?" he asks her in a low voice.

"I'll be fine" she responds and George frowns.

"This isn't the ward Elizabeth; there isn't a lock on his door. Just…be careful" he warns her. She just nods. She walks with him to the door.

"Call me at any time, okay?" She nods for a second time and watches him open the door.

"Thanks for this Elizabeth" he whispers and he's gone.

* * *

She returns to the living room and nerves are trembling a little in her stomach. Her head comes up when she sees Mitchell standing in the doorway of his room. She briefly pauses and regards him. There's a frown on his face, as if he's trying to figure her out.

"I won't hurt you" he tells her in a silky smooth voice that she doesn't quite trust.

"Good to know" she replies with a calmness that she doesn't feel and is sure that he can pick up on. He's in front of her in an instant and she blinks at the speed in which he moves at. He's right there, in her personal space and she resists the urge to back up a step. So he wants to put her ill at ease? She lifts her head and she looks into his eyes.

"I won't hurt you…today" he whispers. Her eyes widen slightly and her heart rate accelerates.

"You're upset and you're pissed off because I called George and he came to you when you didn't want him to. You're angry because your plans were thwarted and you know what, that's fine, be angry, be pissed off but you have a good friend in George, whether you think you deserve that or not, you do" she tells him in a deceptively calm voice. He doesn't respond. She takes a silent deep breath and puts her hand in the centre of his chest and pushes him gently backwards a step.

"Now I'm exhausted and I want to go to sleep. I'd advise you to do the same" his hand comes up and wraps around her wrist.

"You don't scare me Mitchell. I saw you on the ward remember? I saw those black eyes and those fangs, I've heard you scream, I don't doubt what you're capable of but right now I really am _not_ in the mood to be intimidated"

"You have no idea of what I'm capable of, or what I've done" he growls quietly, his eyes intent on her face.

"And maybe one day you'll tell me. Now let go of me please?" He does and takes another step back. She looks into his eyes again.

"Thank you. The doors and windows are locked, you're not going anywhere tonight so I suggest you try and get some sleep too" she advises. He watches her walk across the living room and through the door next to his room. It closes quietly behind her. He lets his shoulders sag.

_How fucking stupid am I? I thought I'd been clever, hoarding those pills, pretending to take them but hiding them behind my wisdom teeth, spitting them out once I got back into my room and finding somewhere to hide them. Nobody had suspected a thing. I had been figuring out when to choose my moment and Nina kind of tipped the balance there. I never thought to wait until Elizabeth was off shift, the situation just overwhelmed me and I made my decision there and then. I didn't mean for her to be the one to find me but in that moment of madness, I forgot that she'd gotten into the habit of making tea for us both. Like I said, fucking stupid._

_She surprises me, she's warm and sympathetic at work, a balm for the tortured souls there but once she found out what I am, she's all ice cold and fearless and I have to kind of admire her for that. She isn't afraid of me and I need her to be terrified. Fear I can deal with and it's what I'm comfortable with, not this._

* * *

She leans against her door and briefly closes her eyes. He's here, in her flat and under these circumstances, he unnerves her but she'll die before she'll admit it. She extended the invitation more for George's sake than anything else but she is glad that he's here. She straightens up and walks towards her bed. She's beyond exhausted but she can't settle, she feels over wound.

* * *

Mitchell walks slowly into the other bedroom. He's tired; his stomach is still on the sensitive side and his head aches. He stares at the bed. It looks inviting. Maybe just a brief nap, it might help. He lowers himself down and then lies down and closes his eyes.

Sleep quickly claims him.

At first she doesn't know what the hell it is that wakes her from a sound sleep but as the sound penetrates the thick fog, she jolts viciously awake when she realises that it's screaming. She sits up, her eyes wide.

Mitchell is screaming.

She bolts from her room and into his. Her eyes widen when she sees her bookcase being pulled over with a heavy crash as the books spill out and scatter. His eyes are open but she recognises the nightmare for what it is. She goes towards him, climbing over the upturned book case. He throws himself up against the wall as if trying to escape. She grabs his arms and tries to turn him around to face her.

"Mitchell…" she yelps as he pushes her away and she's thrown across the room. She lands against the book case and she falls to the floor. She scrambles to her feet again, ignoring the pain exploding in her ribs.

"Hey" she grabs his arms again

"Mitchell!" her hands slip up to his shoulders and she shakes him hard.

The effect is instant. He's awake and staring at her with wide, scared brown eyes. His breathing is ragged and hard. For a moment he just stares into her eyes as if trying to remember where he is or how he got there. Then he sees the devastation of the room.

"Oh my God" he whispers. He looks back at her.

"Oh God…I'm so sorry" She leads him back to the bed and slowly he sits down. He begins to shake.

"It's okay, I should've expected this" she tells him. He looks at her again.

"Maybe I should leave…"

"And maybe you just had another nightmare" she replies.

"I'll help to tidy up…"

"Can you remember what it was you were dreaming about?" she asks and he seems to freeze. His eyes are teary, traces dampening his cheeks. He shakes his head.

"It's…disjointed…bits of this and…that" he confesses in a whisper. She touches his face, pushing errant curls away.

"Come on, I'll make us some tea" she offers. He looks at her and then he slowly nods. She gets up and looks at him. She holds out a hand and he takes it, following her almost meekly.

* * *

She watches him slowly lower himself onto the sofa. The shaking has abated a little bit. He wraps his arms around himself and suppresses a shiver. She pulls the throw off the back of the chair and she wraps it around his shoulders. He pulls it tighter around him.

"I'm just through here" she tells him and he nods, watching her go through into what he assumes is the kitchen. He hears her fill a kettle with water and switch it on. She comes back into the living room and she sits down beside him. She just regards him.

"It was a bad one yeah?" she asks and after a second he slowly nods. The shadows of it are still poking around the corners of his mind, present enough to scare him but far enough away that he can't quite remember.

"You're safe here" she tells him, placing a hand on his shoulder and he looks at her.

"I'm sorry" he whispers.

"You don't have to keep apologising Mitchell" she tells him. She scans his face.

"Once you've had some tea, you can talk to me if you feel up to it, or not, there's no pressure and later you can tidy up your room" her eyes warm with a smile and he can't help but respond in kind. He watches her stand up and head back into the kitchen.

She returns a few minutes later carrying two cups. He hasn't moved but his colour is a little better and she wonders about that. He's pale but she wonders whether that's down to what he is or not.

"Here" he looks up when he hears her voice and she's holding a cup out to him. He takes it and takes a sip of the hot liquid. He has to admit it; she makes a good cup of tea. Again she sits down beside him. He looks at her.

"I'm sorry…about last night…" he begins.

"Mitchell…it was a hell of a night" she begins to shake her head.

"In which you discovered the existence of vampires to go with the werewolves" he reminds her and she rolls her eyes as if to say, _oh yeah, that._ She takes a sip of her tea instead. She then lowers her cup and regards him.

"Will you hurt me?" she asks. He sighs raggedly.

"Right now, no but I can't guarantee the future" he answers with brutal honesty. It makes her blink.

"You've been kind to me, more than I deserve" he continues

"More than you _deserve?_ What is that supposed to mean?" She watches his expression darken.

"I'm not good news Elizabeth. I try to be a good person but bad things tend to…happen instead and I don't want anything to happen to you…because of me" he confesses.

"I can take care of myself Mitchell"

"You've had your eyes opened to a whole different world and I don't know whether you can"

"Then let me decide for myself, okay?" she touches his shoulder again.

"I don't want you to regret it" He puts his tea mug on the coffee table and she watches him pull his fingers through his hair.

"I've done some awful things in the past…" he begins.

"And they're in the past" she reminds him. He looks at her.

"Not too far past" he whispers. Again she frowns.

"How far back?" His eyes widen slightly.

"If I tell you…and you decide that you can't…deal with it…then I'll leave and you'll never see me, or have anything to…fear from me again" he begins. The desperate tone of his voice sends alarm bells ringing and she puts her cup down beside his.

"Mitchell" she whispers. She can sense that he's getting upset again and she's not sure whether she can cope with it but she can also see that he needs to get whatever it is out of his system.

"Please" he whispers and after a moment, she nods. He looks at her for a long moment and the silence is unbearable.

"Back in Bristol, last year I did something…depraved…purely evil and I was…found out" he begins. She frowns.

"What did you do?"

"I'm a vampire Elizabeth, what do you think?" he replies. He looks away, concentrates on his hands instead.

"There was a train carriage…twenty people, we killed them all"

"_We_?" her voice rises slightly and he looks at her.

"Yeah, her name was Daisy, she's a vampire too, i don't know where she is now" She's gone pale again as she digests what he's told her.

"Why?" she asks him. He looks away and he frowns.

"I reacted to what was going on at the time, I've spent so long trying to be like…them…like you and after being punched and kicked by humanity for so long, I just…gave up" he confesses.

"I remember reading about the train" She remembers feeling utterly horrified and she looks at him with new eyes. He's being honest with her, he doesn't have to be. She sighs shakily.

"And it was because of that that you ended up on the ward?" she asks eventually. He looks at her again.

"Guilt, rejection, self hatred, you name it and I felt it"

"You still do" she tells him and his eyes widen slightly at her observation.

"I always will. If I could take back what I did back in Bristol then I would, in an instant" he replies. She stares at him. She believes him.

"But you did it, you and your companion. Why weren't you arrested?" she asks curiously.

"People like you aren't supposed to know about people like me, as far as I'm aware, it just…went away" he answers.

"The nightmares, they're your punishment" he just nods. There's a brief silence.

"George believes in you. He seems to think that you're worth saving otherwise he wouldn't have admitted you, he wouldn't have got you from the morgue last night…"

"He wasn't supposed to. I was trying to do the right thing" _And failing again._

"He sees the good in you Mitchell, isn't that worth _something_?" she asks him.

"There is nothing good about what I am" he replies in a harder voice.

"Some may beg to differ"

"You don't know me at all Elizabeth"

"I'm not talking about me" A memory clicks in her brain.

"There was an explosion at an old funeral parlour back in Bristol, not long before the train event…"

"That's what started it. The press said there was nobody inside but what they didn't mention that the bodies in there weren't human"

"They were vampires" it's not a question and Mitchell nods.

"I had been trying to get them off blood, get clean like I was but there were…people…always humans trying to jeopardise things and it got out of control"

"It was arson?" Mitchell nods again.

"A bomb" his voice tightens. Her eyes widen as she remembers something George said to her in the cafeteria the morning after she'd saved Mitchell from Daniel

_Some people just take a dislike to other people; mostly it's down to prejudice._

"And that's when you gave up on humanity?" she asks him.

"Humanity had long since given up on me, it doesn't excuse what I did but that was how I felt at the time" he admits in a low voice. She regards him.

"You said you were getting your friends off blood and that you were clean?"

"I've been clean for close to a year now, after what I did…" he tells her and watches her reaction, her shoulders relax.

"But it's an addiction, you have to be aware of that and like all addictions there are slips" he warns her.

"But you get right back on that horse again when you do, right?" he shrugs restlessly at her query.

"Sometimes" he admits. He watches her face.

"What are you thinking?" he asks her when she doesn't immediately speak.

"That you've been brutally honest with me" she tells him. She picks her cup up again and holds it between her hands.

"Just say the word and I'll leave" he tells her and she fixes him with a steady look.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, for me to give you permission to walk out of here and disappear? What would you do and where would you go Mitchell?" she looks into his eyes.

"You're still very vulnerable. You're scarred and you need help because you can't do this by yourself"

"You have no idea what you're letting yourself in for"

"Maybe not but I'm willing to find out" she tells him.


	11. Low

**Thank you to those who are still reading and still reviewing. I appreciate it. In this chapter, Mitchell gets a shock and despite it, begins to open up to Elizabeth. All errors are my own. Love to hear what you think :)**

* * *

** Low.**

"He told you, didn't he?"

George sees how pale she is and guesses the reason behind it almost straight away. Elizabeth takes a step back and holds the front door open wider.

"About the train carriage in Bristol? Not in any great detail but yeah…I know" she replies. George closes the door and looks at her. She looks pale and very tired.

"Did you get _any_ sleep?" he asks her and she shrugs and then winces.

"Elizabeth?" His eyes widen when she lifts the hem of her t-shirt and shows him the livid purple bruise that marks her rib cage.

"What happened?" he breathes.

"A nightmare, a bad one which I should've been prepared for, I went to help and got in the way basically" she admits and pulls the side of her t-shirt down again.

"How is he?"

"He's sleeping at the moment; under the circumstances I thought it would be best just to let him" George nods and then unhooks the back pack from his shoulder.

"Clothes for him" he tells her and puts it down beside the sofa.

* * *

He follows her into the kitchen as she puts the kettle on to make tea.

"How do you feel? About knowing what he did in Bristol?" he asks her. She looks at him.

"Is it why he ended up at Bedlam?" George pauses for a second and then nods. He decides that she doesn't need to know about the lost baby just yet.

"He's a vampire Elizabeth, it's in his nature to want to kill and to feed" he tells her. She takes a couple of cups out of a cupboard and places them beside the boiling kettle.

"But he fights against it"

"He didn't always used to, back in his worst days he was the stuff of legend, he was feared and revered"

"So what changed?" George looks at her.

"Humanity. I think he wanted to believe in it, be part of it again"

"Well that didn't work, considering what it did to him, the bomb at the funeral parlour"

"He told you about that?"

"In passing and only because I mentioned it first. I remember hearing about it on the news" she hands a cup to him and tells him to help himself to milk and sugar. He adds milk and that is all.

"He was badly hurt by someone and there was other stuff going on, he was being manipulated and pulled around and he was trying to do the right thing and I suppose it all got…too much" Elizabeth stared at him in amazement.

"Who hurt him?"

"It doesn't matter. She's dead now and no…he didn't kill her" Though he knows that he had wanted to, had intended to. They both turn when they hear footsteps.

He stands in the doorway looking dishevelled and sleepy.

"Thought I heard your voice" he mutters. He watches as Elizabeth gets out another cup and makes another cup of tea which she hands to him. She then looks at them both.

"I'll leave you to talk" she tells them, slipping between them to disappear into her bedroom.

* * *

Mitchell watches her leave before looking at George.

"How are you?" George asks him. Immediately his eyes become shifty. He looks away and takes a mouthful of tea instead.

"Elizabeth told me about what happened. The nightmare and your… confession"

"I want her to know the truth about me George" he answers calmly. George barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

"You want her to run screaming in the opposite direction Mitchell and you need to know that while she's shocked and trying to absorb…everything, I don't think she'll do what you want her to" he sees the flare of frustration in his eyes.

"Don't push her away please"

"Every life I touch I poison George, what part of that don't you understand?" he whispers.

"And what about those lives that you don't poison? What about those of us who genuinely care about you?"

"You'd let me go" he turns and goes into the living room.

"You know that's not going to happen" George tells him as he follows him through. The look Mitchell sends him is black. They sit down. George watches how Mitchell huddles up on the sofa and it reminds him of how he used to sit on that chair in the ward. He grips onto the cup and stares into space for a moment.

"Where's Annie?" Mitchell then asks and it makes George flinch slightly.

"Pardon?" he asks and Mitchell looks at him.

"Annie. I've looked for her, I've asked for her but I haven't seen her. If she's staying away because of what…what I did then I understand but…" his words peter out at just how sad George's expression turns. He frowns.

"What?" he demands, his tone hardening and slowly George puts his cup down on the coffee table. He shuffles closer to him. He looks away for a moment and Mitchell knows that whatever he has to tell him isn't what he wants to hear.

"George?" He looks at him.

"She's gone Mitchell. She's not…_there_… anymore" he tells him and he watches his friend's eyes widen marginally.

"Gone where?" he demands. George widens his own eyes as if to say _where do you think?_

"She crossed over. It happened over a period of time, she just kind of…faded away and then one day she just wasn't there any more" he keeps his tone gentle. The expression on Mitchell's face is heartbreaking. Tears fill his eyes as he stares at him in disbelief.

"Because of me? What I did?" he uncurls his body and gets to his feet, shoving the cup he held down beside George's. George stands up as Mitchell begins to pace in the small space between the coffee table and the sofa.

"Mitchell…you broke her heart and then you…_disappeared_. What was she supposed to do?" he asks. He swallows when he sees tears slip down his friend's cheeks.

"She was supposed to…hang on…for herself…she's supposed to be okay" he retorts angrily. George regards him helplessly.

"You see what I mean? I'm poison…every life I touch I contaminate!" he exclaims angrily. Out of the corner of his eye, George sees Elizabeth's door open. She cautiously emerges and watches them both.

"Mitchell?" she enquires quietly and he spins around.

_"Just...leave me alone!"_ he explodes. George watches how she looks at him. She seems to straighten and take a deep breath. She slowly walks towards him.

"Mitchell, you need to calm down" she tells him in a quiet voice.

"You may have told me what to do back there Elizabeth but not here, not now!" he argues. She continues to walk towards him until she's standing in front of him.

"What's happened to set you off like this?" she asks him instead. He just looks at her, his shoulders are heaving and he's struggling to retain any kind of control. She takes another step closer to him and reaches out and touches his upper arm. Instantly he flings it away.

"Mitchell" George hisses and he turns his head and glares at him.

"It's why I wouldn't go back to the house! I couldn't face her, I couldn't _handle_ it!" he snaps. George sighs quietly and approaches him. He stands beside Elizabeth and looks at him.

"I thought as much. I'm so sorry" his voice is soft. Elizabeth puts her hand back on his upper arm and she slowly strokes it. When he doesn't flinch, she moves a little bit closer and rests her hand on his shoulder. Between them, they lead him back to the sofa and sit down with him, flanking him at either side.

"Maybe she'll come back" he murmurs more to himself than anyone else. George and Elizabeth exchange looks. She wants to know who Annie is. Judging by Mitchell's reaction, she's someone special.

* * *

They watch him retreat back into his room and Elizabeth swallows down the feeling of unease burgeoning inside of her. She picks up the cups and goes into the kitchen and is relieved that George has taken the hint and has followed her.

He watches Elizabeth dump the cold tea into the sink and then quickly rinse the cups and put them on the draining board. She turns and looks at him.

"Who's Annie?" she asks him. George straightens and glances towards the door.

"She's someone Mitchell is very…attached to. They had a relationship of a kind but then everything…happened" he pauses as if mentally compiling his thoughts. He looks at her again.

"Annie was in love with him, she's also a…ghost" he tells her.

"A ghost?" He just nods in confirmation and she rolls her eyes and turns to look back at the sink.

"She was our flatmate here and also back in Bristol" he tells her and slowly she turns around.

"Judging by his reaction earlier, I'd say Mitchell is more than just _attached_ to her" George shrugs.

"What happened to her? Why isn't she at the house any more?"

"She crossed over while Mitchell was in hospital" Elizabeth sighs very quietly.

"Ah"

* * *

She jolts awake and listens. She doesn't hear him and maybe that's what has woken her up. For the last couple of nights their sleep has been interrupted by nightmares. She's waiting for her neighbours to say something because the walls of these flats aren't exactly soundproofed. She gets out of bed and goes into the living room.

Mitchell is sitting on the sofa; a single lamp illuminates the room. He turns his head and looks at her.

"Did I wake you?" he asks in a low voice. She approaches him.

"For once…no" she replies. He watches her sit down beside him.

"So what are you doing out of bed?" he asks her.

"It's getting to be a force of habit I suppose"

It's a little chilly and she shivers. Mitchell shifts and pulls the throw off the back of the sofa and tosses it across her legs. She glances at him and smiles as she pulls it a little bit closer.

"Thanks" she murmurs. A moment of silence passes.

"Want some tea?" she asks him and she doesn't wait for an answer as she goes into the kitchen. She goes through the process of filling the kettle and plugging it in. She pauses and then looks at the fridge. Mitchell stands in the doorway and watches her open the fridge door and lean in. A moment later she straightens up and there are two beer bottles in her hand. His eyes widen marginally.

"Or would you rather have a beer instead?" she invites, wiggling the long necked bottle slightly. He reaches for the bottle and she switches off the kettle. He opens the top with an expertise borne of years of drinking and watches her do likewise and head towards the little kitchen table. She slides into a seat and after a moment, he does likewise.

He takes a mouthful of beer and sighs as it slides coldly down his throat. It's been too long since he enjoyed a simple beer. He looks at her again.

"What? Didn't think I was a one for beer?" she asks. He shrugs one shoulder.

"Honestly? No" he replies and a slight smile tucks up the corner of her mouth.

"Well I'm not always about tea and sympathy" she murmurs.

"Really? Because you're really good at those" her eyes widen slightly.

"Am I?" her tone is slightly arch and he can't help it, he smiles very slightly.

"Yeah you are. You don't have to do any of this, you don't have to have me here turning your life upside down" He watches her cheeks flush.

"You're one of life's genuine souls Elizabeth and I might act like a prick most of the time but you shouldn't forget that" She looks at him.

"You're not a prick Mitchell" she defends and he rolls his eyes.

"Wait til you get to know me a bit better" he replies and then pauses. He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes another sip and then slowly lowers it to the kitchen table. He doesn't look at her, he can't.

"Will you talk to me about Annie?" she asks him in a gentle voice. He continues to stare at the bottle and he quickly shakes his head. She's still in his head and his heart, she's still _his_.

"George said she was your house mate…first" His lifts his eyes to hers.

"Yeah she was. She was lovely" he looks away. She regards him and then leans across and puts her hand on his wrist.

"I'm so sorry Mitchell, you must miss her terribly" He watches her. Then he nods.

"I do. It hurts because this time I can't get her back" he whispers.


	12. Breathe

**Again, many thanks for the great reviews. I address the Annie issue once and for all in this chapter. Mitchell finally succeeds in scaring Elizabeth. All errors are my own. As always, love to hear your thoughts! :) **

* * *

**Breathe.**

She notices him straight away. Actually he's hard to miss in his smart suit and neatly combed hair but that's not what attracts her attention.

The patients are being especially restless and challenging today. To be truthful they have been for a few days now, ever since Mitchell's 'death', what happened has unsettled them somewhat. Mary hasn't slept properly since and a couple of times Elizabeth has found her wandering the corridors and Malcolm has been even more restless than usual. It's been challenging but for Elizabeth that's part of the job. She's used to the noise, to the chaos that this place attracts but the visitor is watching the patients in the dayroom as if he's looking for someone. He's not interested in the energy of this ward, just one person in particular, someone he can't seem to find. He's very still, watchful. Curious now, she approaches him.

"Can I help you with something?" she enquires and he turns his head and looks at her. He's tall, several inches taller than her with tidy fair hair and hazel coloured eyes. He seems to scan her face and then he smiles but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'm looking for someone. I believe he's a patient here?"

"And who would that be?" He seems to pause.

"His name is John Mitchell, Irish fellow, about six feet tall, brown eyes, dark curly hair?"

Elizabeth regards him curiously, wondering why he'd be here and asking about Mitchell…unless...

"Mr Mitchell passed away recently" she informs him, keeping her face as passive as she can. She watches his eyes and she sees how they sharpen with interest.

"He did? Oh now that's such a shame…can I ask…how?" Elizabeth swallows. There is something..._off_ about this man and she can't quite put her finger on it. He makes her feel incredibly uneasy. She smiles, a brief flash that she hopes looks apologetic enough.

"I'm afraid we're not allowed to discuss our patients here with anyone…confidentiality and all of that, I'm sure you understand" The visitor is observing her and Elizabeth gets the impression that she's being weighed up.

"I understand perfectly…thank you for your time" he replies courteously and Elizabeth continues to stare at him even though he makes her very nervous. He looks her up and down and then turns and leaves. She stands there for a moment or two before remembering to breathe.

_He's a vampire_ she realises. His stillness reminds her of Mitchell. She has a very bad feeling about this. Then it occurs to her that she doesn't even know his name.

* * *

Mitchell notices her pensive expression. There's a little furrow line between her eyes that just doesn't go away. He's not one for a lot of conversation at the best of times but she's quiet tonight. She lifts her head and looks up at him when he plunks a cup of tea down on the coffee table in front of her. She looks down at it again before meeting his gaze one more time.

"Out with it" he instructs, sitting down on the sofa beside her. She all but gawps at him, stunned that he would notice her change in mood or even be interested. She sighs raggedly and looks at him.

"Someone was on the ward today asking about you" she tells him and he frowns.

"About me?" She nods and then reaches across and picks up the cup of tea and takes a drink. She frowns into it briefly.

"What?" she blinks and looks at him, a little startled.

"Oh…just that this is a really good cup of tea" she tells him and a baffled expression crosses his face for a moment before disappearing and being replaced by the more familiar frown.

"Elizabeth…the visitor?" he reminds her sharply and she puts the cup back down.

"Oh…him. He was a tall, well dressed guy with fair hair and hazel brown eyes. He asked for you by name, your full name" she clarifies and she watches how he stares off into space, obviously trying to place him by her description which in truth could fit a thousand men in the area.

"What did you tell him?" she stares at him.

"Just the truth, that you died. He asked how and I told him that I wasn't allowed to discuss such matters with him, which I'm not and he left shortly afterwards. He didn't give a name and I didn't ask" It would've looked odd, why would she ask the name of someone enquiring about a dead guy? She sighs shakily.

"I'm almost certain he was a vampire"

"If he asked for me by my full name then he will be" he replies.

"Maybe finding out you're dead was enough?"

"He'll make sure; he'd probably follow you to make sure you're telling the truth" He scans her face and he frowns.

She takes a deep breath and then pauses before plunging on.

"How do you kill a vampire, Mitchell?" she asks.

There's a moment of absolute silence and Mitchell stares into her eyes. She watches him stand up and head into her kitchen. A moment or two passes and she can hear him open and close doors as if he's searching for something. She flinches when she hears a cracking sound and her eyes widen when she sees him return and he's carrying…

"Hang on, is that my broom handle?" he glances irritably at it before approaching her.

"I'll get you a new one" he grasps her wrist and pulls her to her feet.

"There are a couple of ways to kill a vampire, one is decapitation" he watches her eyes widen with mild horror.

"And the other is more…permanent and for your own safety you need to know what that is"

"Mitchell?" her eyes widen in fright when he pushes the broken broom handle into her hands. He forces her fingers around the shaft and holds them captive with his hands. She can't let go even if she wants to.

"Elizabeth…this is important…you _need_ to listen" his voice is rough and she looks into his eyes. She gasps when he twists the handle around so that the broken off end is pressed up against his chest. She gasps out loud as he pushes it hard against his breast bone.

"It _has_ to be the heart, do you understand? You can't miss" she nods quickly, fear pounding in her own breast.

"One day you might have to use it against me" his gaze sharpens on her face as her own eyes widen and she begins to shake her head.

"If I ever get….to that point…I need you to be strong enough…no…_cold_ enough to do it" he nods as she continues to shake her head.

"Promise me Elizabeth….please, you _have_ to promise me" his voice lowers to a whisper as he lowers his head and presses his forehead against hers. All that can be heard in the room is the sound of their ragged breathing. She closes her eyes as hot tears suddenly burn behind them.

"I promise" she whispers. He lets go of her hands and the broken broom handle clatters to the floor. For a moment neither of them speaks but she feels the tension slowly drain out of him. His arms come around her for a moment and the hug is quick but tight.

"Thank you" he murmurs and he presses an equally brief kiss against her forehead and just like that, he's gone, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the room. She lifts her head as she hears his bedroom door close and she's shaking like a leaf.

She drops down onto the sofa and wraps her arms around herself to try and stop the shaking. She had asked him how to kill a vampire and he'd responded but it has scared her. She sees the cup still steaming silently away on the table and she picks it up and wraps her hands around it. She has seen his hell black gaze, been on the receiving end of some absolutely vile behaviour but what frightens her the most is the thought that one day she may be forced to kill him.

* * *

_He tips his face up to the sun and smiles to himself. He can hear the distant rush of the tide; he can smell the salt and the sand. He tucks his knees beneath his chin and wraps his arms around them to keep them steady. He lowers his chin down onto his knees and closes his eyes and he enjoys the summer warmth for now._

"_Don't go to sleep now" her voice has his eyes popping open and he lifts his head. He watches her move into his line of vision and he stares at her in amazement. _

"_Annie?" he gets to his feet and looks at her. She smiles at him, her big bright sunny smile that always brightened up whatever kind of day he was having. _

"_Hey you" she goes towards him and all of a sudden her arms are around him. She feels slightly cool but real. His eyes slide closed when he feels her curls tickle his cheek. Oh God she's real._

"_Oh Christ, Annie" he breathes and he buries his face in her soft hair and he inhales the familiar scent of her. He feels emotion tighten in his chest and a lump sticks in his throat. He draws back and looks into her dark brown eyes. Her smile dims slightly and he feels it inside of himself, like a bulb flickering. _

"_I miss you so much" he admits. Her smile disappears completely now. She lifts a hand and she cups the side of his face._

"_You shouldn't you know…you have this great second chance ahead of you"_

"_But it's nothing without you" he tells her, his hands tightening on her waist. His gaze intensifies._

"_Why did you leave me? I know what I did was truly…despicable…I didn't think that you'd just…give up like that and go" Annie sighs raggedly and takes a step back and out of his grasp._

"_You just…broke down…you disappeared and my heart was too…damaged really to keep going" she admits quietly._

"_You should've fought…you should've forgotten about me and just fought for yourself" He watches tears fill her eyes and slip down her cheeks. She shrugs helplessly._

"_You're not the type of guy a girl just forgets about Mitchell. I loved you with all my heart, I still do" His heart twists at her declaration._

"_I love you too Annie, oh God… I wish…" Annie steps forwards and puts her hand over his mouth._

"_No…don't wish for something that will never happen…what happened has…happened and you can't undo it. You need to make a choice, you need to decide whether you can live with it and be…okay with it" she slowly lowers her hand and her eyes are liquid again._

"_I don't regret the choice that I made, to cross over and I'm happy, I really am. I've seen Gilbert and Sykes is here" she smiles but it trembles and he feels his own eyes fill. She leans towards him and the kiss that she presses on his lips is gentle, sweet and he can taste her tears. They mix with his own._

"_Annie…" he sighs. She draws back and looks at him. She uses her thumbs to swipe beneath his eyes._

"_I want you to be okay Mitchell, I want you to be really okay" she takes a step backwards and he squints as the sun suddenly blinds him. He blinks but she's gone and there is the just the sound of the sea to greet him again._

He wakes up with a gasp and stares for a moment at the ceiling. He blinks to clear his vision and that's when he realises that his eyes are wet. He wipes at them and looks at his fingers. His heart feels like it's fluttering like a caged bird in his chest and he feels like he's on the verge of an all out anxiety attack. He sits up and sighs raggedly. He covers his face with his hands.

"Fuck. Oh fuck" he whispers brokenly.

* * *

He slowly emerges from his bedroom. He feels battered and rocky. Talking to Elizabeth about how to kill him has shaken him and coupled with his dream interlude with Annie, he's feeling a little fragile. He walks as far as the sofa and then pauses. The broken broom handle is still on the floor where she dropped it. He leans down and picks it up and pushes it into the back pocket of his jeans.

Elizabeth is in the kitchen and she's cooking. Mitchell watches as she turns and looks at him. She's pale though her eyes look a little pink and swollen.

"Aah...Elizabeth…" he sighs. Her answering smile is a little wobbly.

"I'll be okay…all of this is new for me" she tells him.

"You need to be prepared" he approaches her and she nods. He watches as she serves up two plates of pasta. She puts them on the kitchen table and looks at him again.

"I know" she agrees. She sits down and watches him do likewise, she sees him pull something out of the back pocket of his jeans and put it on the table beside his plate. It's the broken broom handle and her eyes fly to his face again. He looks at it and then back at her.

"Who would be looking for you Mitchell?" she asks him. He glances briefly at his plate and then back up at her.

"I don't know but whoever it is, it can't be for anything good" he replies. He watches her slowly place her fork down beside her plate. He shifts in his seat.

"There's a vampire hierarchy at play here. Whoever this guy is, he's pretty high up and I have no clue who he is til I see him" He watches her eyes widen slightly.

"So you're planning to go and see him? He thinks your dead already"

"I don't think he does, like I said before, he'll need proof. You didn't tell him how I supposedly died so he'll be suspicious. I'm sure we'll see him again"


	13. Beautiful Chaos Part One

**Many thanks for the great reviews and your continued interest in this. I'm winding this down now, but dividing it into two chapters. After that will be an epilogue. All errors are my own. Love to hear your thoughts as usual. Thank you!. **

* * *

** Beautiful Chaos Part One.**

She's troubled that someone else would be looking for Mitchell. She hasn't seen Daniel since that awful night in the isolation ward. Mitchell was locked away for six months, away from any outside contact. If he knows who this vampire is, he's not saying.

She texts George asking him to meet her at the cafeteria whenever he's available and he texts back to say that he's available at lunch time.

She deliberately chooses a table set away from everyone else, where she hopes they can talk and not be overheard. She arrives a few moments before their designated meeting. She buys a couple of cups of tea and settles down to wait for him.

He arrives bang on time. She shouldn't be surprised; everything about George Sands is precise, exact and immaculate. It still blows her away that once a month he turns into an uncontrollable ravening beast. His smile is welcoming as he drops down onto the seat opposite her.

"How are things?" he asks after he takes a mouthful of tea. Elizabeth glances surreptitiously around before looking at him.

"Things are fine. Calm" she replies and he raises his eyebrows in surprise as if to say _oh really?_

"You should come over and visit" she suggests and he regards her frankly.

"Maybe I will" he replies. He watches her sit forwards.

"Have you heard anything of anyone asking about a mutual friend of ours?" she enquires and he frowns.

"No…why?"

"Because there was a visitor on the ward the other day enquiring and I think this visitor is the same as our mutual friend" She watches his eyes widen in surprise.

"You're sure?"

"He asked for him by his full name" George's expression turns pensive.

"Oh this can't be good" he murmurs.

"I'll keep my ears open and see if I can find anything out" he promises.

"And I'll come by soon I promise" Elizabeth smiles at him.

* * *

He watches him stand up. He smiles at the blonde nurse from the psychiatric ward before taking his leave. She piques his interest. He had sensed her curiosity and had seen the truth dawn in her eyes. How would she know what he is, unless she already knows of their existence and how would she already know? She has to know what Mitchell is. He doesn't believe for a moment that he's dead, for that to happen he has to be dust. He doesn't believe that she knows that fact just yet.

His boss wants to know John Mitchell's exact location and he's about to discover that for himself. He waits for a busy period in the cafeteria to make his exit. He blends into the crowds, the suit of earlier had been a mistake and now he looks like anyone else in jeans and a shirt. The only difference is he can hear countless heartbeats and he imagines what their blood will taste of. To him and others like him, they're walking talking picnic lunches and theirs for the taking. He smiles slightly at the thought.

He wonders what her blood will taste like most of all. He's going to enjoy finding out. He sighs quietly, almost happily as he emerges into daylight. He pauses and pulls a pair of sunglasses out of the top pocket of his shirt and he slips them on.

John Mitchell disappeared six months ago, he dropped completely off the radar and nobody knew where he was or whether he was even alive. The events of Box Tunnel had turned white hot and it seemed as though the police were right on his tail but thanks to his boss, the case went ice cold in a matter of hours and he sent the bloodhound detectives in a completely different direction. His boss instructed him to find out where Mitchell was or what had happened to him and none of the feelers he'd sent out had returned anything, it was as if he'd fallen off the face of the earth.

Mitchell's best friend is a werewolf. Why he has one of _those_ as a confidant puzzles him still. He wasted three months having someone keep tabs on the dog feeling sure that he'd lead them right to him but all he seems to do is exist, go to work, come back from work and spend time with his girlfriend, also a werewolf. A month ago he began meeting a blonde nurse for the occasional lunch and tea break and their conversations seemed to go from casual to intense in a matter of days. He wonders how the werewolf girlfriend would feel about that!

Daniel Moorcroft arrived not long after that, he'd heard on the grapevine about the search for John Mitchell and informed him that there was someone matching that description in the psychiatric ward of the hospital he'd just started working at. He has to wonder at the company he keeps that he'd inform about a vampire _to_ a vampire given their supposed hatred of each other.

Daniel Moorcroft mysteriously disappeared before he could fully investigate his claims, which was beyond frustrating. By the time he got to the hospital, Mitchell had vanished again and funnily enough it's the same blonde nurse from the cafeteria who informs him of his 'death'.

Interesting that.

He wonders what time she'll finish work today. He supposes he could follow her home but if he's at her home, he can't get in without an invitation and if she knows what he is, he can imagine that won't be happening any time soon. His thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of his mobile phone. The sun is pleasant on his face and he tips his face up to it. He lifts his phone to his ear.

"Yeah?"

"I think we've found Daniel Moorcroft…" the voice on the other end of the line tells him.

* * *

He feels tired today. He heads into the living room and pauses. She's not there. He frowns and goes into the kitchen. It's empty too. He goes to her bedroom door and pauses. The door is ajar and he touches it and after a moment's hesitation, he gently pushes it open.

"Elizabeth?" he pops his head around the door but her room is empty. Her bed is neatly made; everything is in its place. He looks around. It's a typical girl room with its pale pink walls and darker pink bedding. There's a dressing table beside the window and it's cluttered with bottles, make up and books. He takes a breath and steps inside. He can smell her in here; this is her domain, her private space and discomfort wars inside of him for a moment. He turns his head when he hears the phone ring. He waits for the answering machine to kick in, which it does after a minute.

"Hi. It's me. I just remembered, I need to call into the supermarket so I'll be home around six" her voice echoes around the room. She's at work, how could he have forgotten that? The truth is, he's gotten used to her, more than he should have. He kind of likes having her around though he'll never admit that to her or anyone else. He still plans on leaving when he can.

His day stretches out in front of him and he frowns a little. There's only so much day time TV a man can watch.

He goes back into the kitchen and he sees the box of cereal on the table and despite everything, he smiles to himself.

* * *

She has no idea that she's being followed. She's a million miles away as she wanders up and down the supermarket aisles, pausing here and there to examine various products. He watches how she frowns while debating whether she actually needs what she's holding or not. He has to admit, she is fascinating to observe.

She packs her shopping bags. While she does like having Mitchell staying with her, her food bills have shot up. She hefts the bags up and tests their weight, debating whether to call at cab or struggle the rest of the way home. As she emerges into the chilly darkness, she decides that the exercise will do her good.

She's five minutes away from home. Her shoulders are aching, her fingers have gone numb and all she can think about is getting the shopping inside so that she doesn't have to carry it any more.

"Excuse me? Miss?" the voice is behind her and she stops and turns. He's in shadow; the streetlights around this part of town can be notoriously moody. She frowns. The voice is familiar. He steps forward into better light and her eyes widen. She turns to leave but stops short at the two tall men that have materialised in front of her. Heart hammering, she slowly turns back around and stares at the man who has spoken. His suit is immaculate, his hair neatly combed.

"I neglected to introduce myself to you at the hospital earlier. My name is Joseph Wyatt and I believe you've been keeping a certain…vampire from me" he pauses in front of her. She frowns.

"A what? I have no idea what you're talking about…" his hand comes up and he presses a finger over her lips. He slowly shakes his head.

"Don't lie to me, please, I hate liars" he lowers his head and inhales slowly, deliciously. She swallows against the nerves that have started a frantic tap dance in the pit of her stomach.

"You smell…delectable, I can see why he likes you…I'm surprised he hasn't tried to have a nibble before now" he draws his head back and looks into her eyes.

"John Mitchell. Tell me where he is?" it's not a request.

"I've already told you…John Mitchell died a few days ago" she squeaks when one of the men grabs her by her upper arm. One of the shopping bags drops to the ground, shattering the glass bottles it contains.

"Try again" his voice deepens. Her eyes widen.

His eyes have turned black.

* * *

Mitchell looks at the clock again. It's after seven and she's still not home. He tries to tell himself that she's been held up at work or that she's bumped into a friend and gone for a quick drink and forgot about the time. There's one thing he has learned about Elizabeth and that is if she says she'll be home for six, then she'll be home at six and if she's going to be late, then she rings. She hasn't rang.

* * *

George and Nina exchange a look when there's a hammering on the front door. It's not a polite knock, it's a noise akin to a police raid and George jumps to his feet in alarm.

"You expecting a visitor?" he asks Nina and she shakes her head. George hurries to the front window and looks out. He sees several smartly dressed men standing there. He looks at Nina with wide eyes.

"George Sands. I know you're in there. I can hear you breathing" one of them announces and George frowns.

"How…" then realisation dawns. He looks at Nina again.

"They're vampires" he whispers.

"And they're looking for Mitchell…that didn't take long" Nina murmurs.

"How did they know?"

* * *

Joseph Wyatt smiles at him.

"Good evening Mr Sands…may we come in?" he requests in a pleasant tone with a smile on his face.

"Mitchell isn't here…he hasn't been here for a long time"

"Oh I know that. We need to come inside before we draw attention" There isn't another soul around. He looks at Nina who has come to stand beside George.

"We don't have to do anything" she tells him defiantly.

"Of course you don't…but I think you will this time" he takes a step to the side and George's eyes widen.

Elizabeth is being held between two men. She's pale and there's blood sliding down the side of her neck, staining the neck line of her scrub top.

The living room is suddenly very full. George regards his guest suspiciously.

"Who are you?" he demands.

"My name is Joseph Wyatt, I'm a…friend of Mitchell's" he replies and George frowns.

"Can't say I've heard of you" Wyatt just shrugs restlessly. George then returns his attention to Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth needs medical attention" he tells him and Wyatt looks at her.

"Is _that _her name? I asked you know, but she wouldn't tell me, suspicious little thing" the look he gives her is almost affectionate.

"What do you want?" Nina demands.

"Just one thing. John Mitchell in front of me in the next hour"

"He's dead!" George exclaims and Wyatt looks at him and then slowly shakes his head.

"We both know that he's not…not in the full sense of the word" He frowns at George.

"You need to get in touch with him, I know you know where he is and I do have an idea but I can't enter without an invitation"

"And if I don't?" Wyatt looks at Elizabeth almost longingly.

"Then me and the boys are going to make an awful mess of your lovely carpet" George stares balefully at him.

"He won't believe me" Wyatt's eyes flare in triumph.

"But he'll believe her" Wyatt answers, tilting his head towards Elizabeth.

* * *

Mitchell is pacing the floor and he almost jumps out of his skin when the phone rings. He waits as it goes to answering machine.

"Mitchell" her voice is faint and he experiences a moment of relief that its Elizabeth on the phone. He pauses when he then realises that she doesn't sound quite right.

"His name is Joseph Wyatt and he knows. He's at the house and he wants you here. You need to hurry because he said he'll kill all of us" She whimpers as if in pain. He snatches up the phone.

"Elizabeth?"

"Mitchell…please…you don't have much time" she whispers and the line goes dead.

Mitchell stares into space for a moment. Joseph Wyatt, now there's a name he hasn't heard for a long time. He's high up on the vampire food chain, well above the likes of him and even Herrick but he's not quite high enough. He would've been more worried if he'd heard a different name. He sighs and pulls his fingers through his hair. He goes into the kitchen and he sees the broken broom handle on the kitchen bench. He picks it up and stares at it. He pushes it into the back pocket of his jeans and goes to find his jacket.


	14. Beautiful Chaos Part Two

**I had intended for this to be the final chapter before the epilogue. It ended up being a very long chapter with a lot happening so i've split it into two. I'll post that one up in due course. This chapter draws inspiration from S3 ep 8, the character of Joseph Wyatt is my own as are all errors. Thanks to those who continue to read and review. Love to hear your thoughts.**

* * *

**Beautiful Chaos Part Two.**

Elizabeth is pale. She feels so very cold and light headed. Joseph keeps hold of her almost territorially while they wait for Mitchell to show up.

"He won't make it in an hour" George tells him.

"Then he's going to have to try harder isn't he?" he looks at Elizabeth and gives her a little shake. She swallows down a whimper and closes her eyes.

"She won't last an hour!" Nina hisses to George. George already knows this. She's gone an alarming grey colour and he hopes that Mitchell can get here in time.

* * *

"He's here" one of Wyatt's minions announced a little while later. George closes his eyes as a mixture of relief and foreboding clash. He watches Wyatt drag Elizabeth across the room to the window and look out. He then looks at George and his expression is triumphant.

"You see, he can achieve anything if he puts his mind to it" he tells him and George barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

Mitchell pauses in front of the door and stares at it with some trepidation. He lifts a hand to knock but pauses when the door is thrown open instead.

"Finally!" Wyatt exclaims. Mitchell regards him coolly but doesn't respond. The two men stare at each other.

"How long has it been Mitchell?" he asks in a hearty tone.

"Not long enough" Mitchell replies neutrally. His eyes flick to Elizabeth and he frowns slightly. She's very pale and barely holding on. The scent of her blood coats him like a mist. It's been a while since he's tasted blood; he knows exactly when the last time was.

"Why don't you let the girl go Wyatt? I'm here now" he requests, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. Wyatt takes a step back, dragging Elizabeth back with him.

"All in good time my friend, all in good time" he promises. With his other hand he indicates that Mitchell should come inside. He takes a slow, reluctant step inside, his eyes taking in the interior, his heart remembering happier times here. A lot of it had been tense, paranoid and remorseful but there had been times when he'd been able to smile and to feel something other than paralysing guilt. She should be here; she was part of those happier memories.

He walks into the main living area and he sees George and Nina flanked by two tall well-made vampires that he's never seen before. George looks slightly confused but Nina looks mad enough to rip a few heads off. The look she shoots Mitchell is poisonous. He knows that she's blaming him for this and why not. He has tried to stay out of trouble but it has the unerring ability to find him, no matter what.

"I've been hearing rumours that you've been on the straight and narrow, apart from that little slip in Bristol that is" Mitchell turns when he hears Wyatt speak and he watches him drag Elizabeth behind him as he walks past him. It irritates him beyond measure to see her being treated like this but if he shows just one inkling that he cares then Wyatt will use it to his advantage.

"And?" he watches him come to a stop in front of him.

"You almost succeeded in getting the Bristol chapter off blood before that unfortunate…ending, that got a few people interested back home" he regards Mitchell and then he frowns.

"But you look like hell my friend" he looks at Elizabeth and he smiles.

"You know, I'm really surprised, given your reputation, that you haven't had a taste of this one…she's absolutely _scrumptious_" Mitchell tenses as he pulls her up against him and buries his nose in her hair and inhales deeply. He then lifts his head and looks at him. His eyes darken and his smile is wicked.

"You should have a snack" He pushes Elizabeth at him. She staggers and falls into his arms. Her legs give out completely and it takes all of his strength to hold onto her without falling himself. He lifts her and her eyes open wider.

_Oh God, the scent of her. Back at the hospital I wasn't sure what it was but right at this moment it surrounds me, I can almost taste it. Oh God how I want to taste her._

"Mitchell…no…you have to fight it" George's voice is belligerent and Mitchell raises his head and looks at him. He notices that Nina is staring at him with wide eyes too and it's then that he realises that his eyes have scorched black and he can feel his fangs erupting. He looks back down at Elizabeth. Her blood is fresh; he can hear it pumping through her veins, in tune with her heartbeat. He can have one sip surely? It's been so long since he's had a taste, so fucking _long._

"Oh you know you want to" Wyatt's voice was low, goading and Mitchell swallows, still staring at that butterfly pulse fluttering in her neck. He wants to, oh God he really wants to. Isn't this what he had dreamt of at the hospital, all that he could think about whilst locked up in that hell hole?

_Just a taste._

"Please Mitchell…you're more than this" George whispers and he looks at him again. He takes a deep breath and he lifts Elizabeth closer to him in a parody of what Wyatt had done earlier. He inhales the scent of her and the overpowering scent of blood is dizzying. He feels close to swooning. He closes his eyes and drags the demon kicking and screaming back into the shadows.

"Elizabeth" he whispers against her ear and she moves very, very slightly.

"Back pocket" he feels her arms slowly go around his waist beneath his coat. He tenses very slightly when she locates the broken broom handle and pulls it out of its hiding place. Surreptitiously she passes it around beneath his coat and slips it into his hand. He slides it up the sleeve. He turns his face to her neck.

_A taste, surely he can handle just one taste?_

He inhales her enchanting scent and then lifts his head and fixes Wyatt with an intense stare. He watches him walk towards them and his arm tightens protectively around Elizabeth's waist.

"I'd rather not at the moment" he tells him quietly. He looks back down at Elizabeth. Her eyes are open and she's watching him. Wyatt pulls a face and reaches for her but Mitchell tugs her just out of reach and he smiles.

"But it doesn't mean that I won't later" he adds on and feels her needle sharp look of shock.

Wyatt smiles all too knowingly.

"I knew it was too good to be true, you being on the wagon and all of that, not you, Big Bad John!" he widens his eyes expressively and Mitchell just rolls his. He looks at Elizabeth again; his gaze seems to sweep across her face, disinterested and dismissive. He lifts his head.

"I just can't be bothered to fight anymore, it's too much like hard work" he looks from George to Nina.

"I mean, I'm fighting against so much these days, my nature, the blood, the hunger and then there's the pettiness of _humanity _to factor into it and I wonder, why the fuck do I bother?" He strolls towards George and he pushes Elizabeth down onto the sofa beside him.

"This is what I meant about letting me go, letting me disappear into the ether, then you wouldn't have vampires like Joseph Wyatt on your doorstep, making demands, hurting decent people, it's just less…complicated" he turns his head and he looks at Wyatt.

"How long has it been since we last saw one another?" Wyatt asks him. Mitchell shrugs carelessly.

"Can't remember…fifty years? Sixty" Wyatt grins.

"I suppose you get to our ages then a decade here and there doesn't matter" he goes to Mitchell and slings an arm across his shoulders. His smile slips from his face and he drops his arm.

"The boss will be relieved to hear that we have you contained, after all the trouble you've caused us, it's a big relief to have you come quietly" he then looks at George.

"Do you know how we realised Mitchell was where he was?" he asks him. He takes a couple of steps towards George and then pauses. George shakes his head.

"No" he replies quietly. Wyatt glances at Mitchell over his shoulder before returning his attention back to George.

"We had an informant. One of yours…a werewolf, can you imagine that, a werewolf informing on a vampire?" he chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief.

"Really?" Mitchell asks, genuinely curious now. He looks at George who looks just as baffled.

"Who would do such a thing?" he wonders. Wyatt looks at him again and his grin widens.

"Haven't you guessed? At the hospital…." He begins to laugh as horror crosses both Mitchell and George's faces simultaneously.

"Daniel" George whispers.

"Why would he inform on me and then try and kill me?" Mitchell demands. Wyatt turns to look at him.

"He's a werewolf, I suppose it was in his nature but he's not our problem now, actually he's not anybody's problem" he turns back around and looks at George and Elizabeth.

"You did us a favour George" he tells him in a low tone. Beside him, Elizabeth lifts her head. She frowns.

"A favour? What are you talking about?" She turns her head and looks at George who doesn't look back at her. In fact he looks a little on the uncomfortable side.

"We found him, in a rubbish skip on the hospital grounds, probably ready to go into the incinerator no doubt" Wyatt tells her.

"What are you talking about?" Mitchell demands and Wyatt looks at him and laughs out loud.

"I'm talking about the fact that he's dead with his head caved in!" he announces almost gleefully. George lifts his head and watches his friend join the dots. He can see him remembering that night in the isolation ward and Mitchell then looks at Elizabeth.

"You're making that up" he tells him and Wyatt slowly shakes his head.

"No. We found him and we got rid of him properly this time, no one will ever find him" Mitchell looks at Elizabeth. Her eyes are filling with tears.

"That was me" she whispers.

"Beg your pardon?" Wyatt enquires and she looks at him.

"I killed him" slowly she gets to her feet. George copies, grabbing her arm to pull her back down onto the sofa but she pulls her hand away.

"It was the night of a full moon and that _coward_ had Mitchell in a straitjacket and he was going to tear him limb from limb" Mitchell takes a step towards her and puts his hand on her shoulder.

"Elizabeth, it's okay, you were acting in self-defence" She looks at him and her expression turns fierce.

"Whatever he was, he was essentially a human being. He was a bully, an arsehole but he was fundamentally human and I took his _life_" she reminds him.

"He would've killed you. He was going to kill me and he would've killed you too for sure" he tells her. She sighs raggedly.

"It doesn't change what I did Mitchell" she confesses and he looks at her, into her tragic blue eyes.

"I know but after a while you learn to live with it, you have to" Her neck is still bleeding sluggishly and his eyes track down to the flow of blood. He looks at George.

"She really needs to get to a hospital" he tells him. Wyatt frowns.

"I thought you were saving her for later?" Mitchell removes his hand from Elizabeth's shoulder.

"You'd like that wouldn't you but let me tell you something. Elizabeth has shown me nothing but kindness and compassion since we met. She looked after me in that hell hole, she saved my godforsaken life in that isolation ward when she really shouldn't have because in truth, Daniel would've done the world a huge favour tearing me apart" his expression turns fierce.

"Where are you planning on taking me? To South America probably where I'll spend my days being an attack animal for whoever wants me, to be at the beck and call of every vampire psychopath and murderer with an axe to grind. I made a terrible mistake back in Bristol, and every day that I'm here, I'll pay for it in some way. I won't ever forget and I fucking well won't celebrate it but I'll find a way to repent even if it takes the rest of whatever time I have left here but what I won't be… I won't be your puppet, yours or your boss's" he snarls at him and Wyatt's eyes widen in shock at the ferocity behind his words.

"You act like you have a choice in the matter Mitchell" he smiles coldly. Mitchell rolls his eyes.

"Ahh. Choice…such a grand word don't you think?. People makes choices every day, what to wear, what to eat, where to go on a day out and some even make the choice of who to kill and who to save. Back then I wondered whether I truly had a choice in what I became. In France I was already killing for King and Country and afterwards? It was because it was part of my nature, because I couldn't really help it and because I just loved it too much" Mitchell turns more fully to look at him and George notices that he makes a peculiar straightening motion with his right arm. His eyes widen marginally when he sees something drop into Mitchell's hand.

"Maybe when I made my choice back then, I thought I was doing it for the right reasons but I really wasn't. I should've died with my men back then, I realise that now but I was too swept up in the glamour of eternal life, the blood, the chase and all of that but what I wish I'd realised back then was that this life isn't all it's cracked up to be" he places an almost brotherly hand on Wyatt's shoulder. He sighs.

"I just want a quiet life away from all of this drama…all this_…crap"_ He watches Wyatt's eyes widen as he rams the broken broom handle into his heart "but you people…you just won't _leave me alone_" Wyatt gasps as Mitchell gives it a single, vicious twist.

"Mitchell!" George exclaims in shock as Wyatt begins to crumble and fade. Mitchell takes a quick step back as he collapses into dust, his clothing dropping to the floor in an undignified heap. He then lifts his head and he glares at the other vampires present who are witnessing what just happened in stunned disbelief.

"I'll let you leave on the condition that you leave me and my friends alone" he tells them in a defiant voice. He watches how they look at the pile of clothing that was once Joseph Wyatt and weigh up their options. He knows that this will get back to those higher up the vampire food chain and if they were pissed off at him before, they're going to be volcanically furious now. He refuses to be scared. He wasn't lying when he said that he wants a quiet life, he does. He wants to be left in peace. He watches as they quietly, almost meekly leave, no doubt with a story to tell.

"Mitchell" George murmurs and takes the stake out of his hand. Mitchell has turned pale and he's beginning to shake.

"Oh God…Oh Christ…." he breathes.


	15. Letting Go

**This is the final chapter. I have an epilogue in the works which i'll hope to post up soon. Thank you to those who have stuck with this, read it and left reviews. Mitchell has a decision to make. All errors are my own. Love to hear what you think. Thank you again.**

* * *

**Letting Go.**

"George!" Nina calls out and George's eyes widen as he turns and sees Elizabeth's legs suddenly give way. He lunges forwards and manages to catch her as she collapses. He looks at Mitchell over one shoulder as Nina scuttles off to the kitchen to get something to stem the bleeding.

"Mitchell…call an ambulance" he instructs him. Mitchell's eyes go wide when he sees how dangerously pale Elizabeth has become.

* * *

She's lying in a hospital bed when she comes to. She's on a ward and the curtain is drawn around her bed. Her neck and her head ache and she's aware of bandaging around her neck. She gently lifts her head and sees the blood bag suspended on an IV stand and she lies back down and sighs quietly. She hears the curtain being drawn back and manages a small smile when she sees George come into view with Nina beside him. There's no sign of Mitchell.

"Good. You're awake, you had us worried" George breathes, coming closer to her.

"You lost an awful lot of blood; it was scarily touch and go for a while there" Nina supplies.

"But you're going to be okay, a bit sore but essentially okay" George tacks on and watches her smile a little.

"Where's Mitchell?" she asks, her voice is quiet, tired sounding and she watches the couple exchange a look.

"He's at the house for now; you understand why…he can't come to see you" Nina replies. Elizabeth nods slightly. She's at the hospital where she works at, if anyone sees Mitchell, it would be disastrous.

* * *

He stands in the middle of her room and feels the ache in his chest. He sees the cup and saucer that he'd seen in the charity shop and had bought for her as a spur of the moment gift. He still remembers the look of pleasure in her eyes when she'd taken it out of the bag. He touches it with the tip of his index finger. He drops his hand and then turns. He looks up at the faded cracked ceiling and then looks at the chair that she liked to curl up into. How many times has he sat at her feet as she'd read and taken comfort from her?

"I'm sorry Annie" he whispers. He touches the arm of the chair as if somehow he'll be able to absorb some of her energy like that. He walks out. He won't be back.

He has to leave here. The moment he made the choice to stake Wyatt he knew he'd have to get the hell out of Dodge. The moment the Old Ones find out what he's had the audacity to do, then they'll unleash the hounds of hell on him. It's a terrifying thought, to incur the wrath of the Old Ones. They'll go after everyone associated with him to get at him and they won't stop until they succeed and there's one thing that the Old Ones have and it's time, lots and lots of time. George and Nina will have to move, Elizabeth will have to uproot and hide and he'll have to drop off the radar again. He swallows against the regret that he feels.

* * *

She opens her eyes when she hears the curtain being drawn back. It's very late and the rest of the ward is settled for the night. She's been trying to sleep but thoughts of where Mitchell can be, occupy her mind.

Her eyes widen when she sees him drop down onto the chair beside her bed.

"Mitchell" she whispers in relief. He's wearing his coat and a peaked cap and he huddles down.

"How are you doing?" he asks, his voice equally hushed.

"I thought you'd gone" He regards her. He almost had. It was the perfect opportunity to disappear but he realises that he can't do that to her.

"Not yet but I will be soon" he confides. He sees her frown slightly.

"George said you'll be okay" he points to the bandage on her neck.

"Yeah, in time" she tells him. She looks at him.

"Wyatt was high up wasn't he?" she asks him eventually and he pauses.

"Yeah" he admits.

"And important?"

"That too"

"So what happens now?" she asks him. He frowns.

"I disappear because they'll send someone else after me and they'll keep sending someone til they get me" Her eyes widen with alarm.

"What about George and Nina…and me? Won't they come after us?" he shrugs even though he knows the answer. She stretches out a hand to cover one of his. He looks down at it, seeing the tube feeding her blood snaking beneath the bandage there.

"You know they will, they'll go after everyone associated with you until they get what they want" His eyes come up and meet hers. George and Nina know how this works but Elizabeth is someone completely different, someone caught up in a tidal wave of events, an innocent.

"Let me come with you, wherever you decide to go" she asks him and his eyes widen.

"What? No!" he hisses.

"So you'll just leave me behind is that it? I don't know how to deal with this Mitchell"

"And I can't protect you"

"But together we could survive, right? We could find somewhere to rent, we could live our lives under the radar and hide"

"That's no existence for someone like you…someone…." His hushed words trail away in frustration.

"Normal? Human? I killed a _werewolf _Mitchell and I can't spend my existence looking over my shoulder and wondering if the next person who looks at me strangely will be a vampire looking to rip out my throat!"

"Elizabeth…" Her hand tightens on his.

"This is my choice Mitchell. Let's just leave, go… somewhere…" her words falter when he begins to shake his head. She feels her eyes fill with tears.

"I can't, I just can't, I'm so sorry"

"So you stake Wyatt and put all our lives in danger, thanks very much!"

"You can disappear too Elizabeth" he watches her turn her head away and he frowns.

"I can't be responsible for you, I'm sorry" Her head turns back and she glares at him.

"You wouldn't be responsible for me Mitchell, I would never expect you to be" she hisses and he's silenced again. She watches him get to his feet. He leaves. She closes her eyes and feels the tears begin to flow.

* * *

It feels strange being back in the house but he can't go back to her flat. He sits at the kitchen table opposite George.

"What are you going to do now?" George asks him and Mitchell looks up at him through his eyebrows.

"The only thing I can do and that's to disappear" he replies.

"Because of what you did to Wyatt?" Mitchell just nods.

"And it'll mean that Nina and I will have to relocate. Again"

"I'm sorry" Mitchell apologises. George just shakes his head.

"Have you been to see Elizabeth?" he watches him nod and his expression remains troubled.

"What?" he demands and Mitchell looks at him.

"She wants to come with me" he admits and George's eyes widen.

"And?" Now Mitchell's eyes go wide.

"I can't afford to look after her George! I can barely take care of myself!" he exclaims.

"And maybe you'd work better as a team, then you can look out for each other?" he suggests and Mitchell frowns darkly.

"What about…urges and stuff like that?" he mutters and George gives a long suffering roll of his eyes.

"If you're talking about vampiric urges then she's seen you at your worst, she's seen you out of your mind on drugs and worse at the hospital, she's rescued you from a werewolf, and she's accepted you into her home. If you're talking about _other _urges…." He lets it fade away and Mitchell squirms in his seat. He's not talking about _those _urges but it makes him think. He swallows.

"I know I'd be happier if I knew Elizabeth was with you, I'd know she was safe" George tells him. Mitchell sits back in his seat and he sighs loudly.

"She could help you Mitchell. If you feel like you're going to slip…" George suggests.

"I can't do that to her" Mitchell mutters. George fixes him with a steady look.

"I think you already did"

* * *

She refuses her colleagues' offers of transport home with a grace she doesn't really feel. Truth is, she's still smarting from Mitchell's rejection. She'd expected him to say no and therefore had decided to work on him a little bit but the vehemence of his rejection has stunned her. She hasn't seen him since his late night visit.

She's feeling weak and tired as she lets herself into her flat. She should eat something to try and conserve her strength but she's not hungry and she really doesn't want to go through the motions. Then there's the fact that she lost her shopping when Joseph Wyatt grabbed her off the streets so the cupboards will be bare. She sighs tiredly. Maybe she'll just go to bed instead.

"Hey" she jumps out of her skin when she hears his voice and she lifts her head. He's standing in the doorway of what she's quickly considered to be his room, his arms are folded and his legs are planted wide apart. There's no smile of welcome on his face, in fact he looks distinctly foreboding with that frown but she's used to it.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, still a little giddy from seeing him standing there. He unfolds his arms and walks towards her.

"If we're going to do this then there need to be ground rules" he informs her. He watches her eyes light up. He reaches out and puts his hands on her shoulders.

"There have to be no secrets, no lies and total honesty always. We have to trust each other completely" She just nods.

"It won't be easy, we'll probably move around a lot and there'll be no time for relationships or anything like that" she sighs shakily. He stares into her eyes.

"I got you into this mess Elizabeth and I'm truly sorry…" she stands on tiptoe and puts her hand over his mouth.

"Don't apologise" She lowers her hand and his frown returns.

"I don't even know if you're leaving anyone behind" she just shakes her head.

"There's nobody. Don't worry. When do we leave?"

"You shouldn't be so eager to leave, believe me, after a few months of moving from town to town you'll be wondering why you were so eager to leave in the first place"

"Anything has to be better than staying here" she takes a deep breath and sways on her feet. Mitchell tightens his hold on her

"Here…take a seat…" he leads her to the sofa and helps her to sit. He watches her carefully.

"You have to be absolutely sure about this because there's no going back, you can't change your mind" his gaze is intense.

"I know and I am" she tells him. He sighs raggedly.

* * *

The Volvo is packed full. Mitchell leans against the bonnet and looks up at the house. He hasn't been here long enough to form any kind of bond to the place and the only memories that will mean anything to him will be of Annie and of course time spent with George and Nina. He straightens up when he sees the front door open and he watches them emerge. There's a small smile on George's face as he approaches him. For a moment they just look at each other and Mitchell's throat seizes up. Tears begin to well up in George's eyes but given what George is like, it's not completely unexpected.

"Do you know where you're going?" he asks him in a slightly choked voice. Mitchell can only nod. They have an idea where they're heading first, after that is anyone's guess.

"We'll let you know when we get there" he promises and George just nods. There'll be no addresses, just a lot of post office boxes. It's safer that they don't know where the other is. George just looks at him.

"Maybe we can meet up once in a while?" he suggests. He doesn't want to entertain the idea of Mitchell being completely out of his life and Mitchell sighs, ignoring the pain in his chest.

"Maybe" he compromises. They just stare at each other, neither wanting to break that final link.

"Oh for Christ's sake George" Mitchell sighs and pulls his best friend into his arms and hugs him tightly. He feels him break down then and it's almost his undoing and he furiously blinks back his own tears. He takes a deep breath and steps back. He wipes at his eyes and studiously avoids George's gaze. He turns and reaches for the car door.

"Stay safe Mitchell" George tells him and he pauses. He looks at him and feels fresh emotion well. Instead he smiles, a quick tilt of his lips.

"You too George, you too" he glances at Nina who just smiles before he opens the car door and gets in.

He looks at Elizabeth and he smiles at her. Her expression is sympathetic.

"You'll see him again Mitchell, I'm sure of it" she reassures him and he doesn't reply.

He starts the car engine.

**Epilogue to follow later...**


	16. Epilogue

**Here it is as promised, the epilogue. Many thanks to those of you who have read and reviewed this fic from the beginning. I have loved each one of them and appreciated each one of them. Thank you. Again, all errors are my own and i'd love to hear what you think. **

* * *

**Epilogue.**

_Two Years Later…_

The house is a storm away from falling down around their ears but it's theirs and they love it in an irritated kind of way. The moment Elizabeth saw it, she realised its potential. Mitchell argued with her that it wasn't worth taking on considering that they'd probably have to move at a moment's notice but the landlord had been so desperate to be rid of it that he let them have it for next to nothing as long as they did a bit of DIY. They didn't even have to pay a deposit and Elizabeth begged and wheedled until Mitchell had sighed in irritation and agreed. He'd sulked for days over it.

It's a huge cavernous building in the middle of nowhere and right beside the beach. After leaving George and Nina, they'd headed south west and after a little while moving around from town to town they'd settled at where they are now. They freeze in the winter and swelter in the summer. During the mad autumn storms, the windows rattle and the eaves moan and groan. When the snow falls, they huddle together on the sofa under a couple of duvets, drink lots of tea and complain like crazy but despite it all, they like it. She likes being with him and a close friendship has developed between them. She knows the story of how he was made, and has told her stories of his escapades. She has sat with him when beset by cravings and he has rubbed her feet after she's pulled a twelve hour night shift. She reads him letters from George and he reads her pages from the local newspapers so she can listen to his accent as she falls asleep.

So far they haven't come across any more vampires or werewolves but they're vigilant. They live their lives as best as they can. Elizabeth is working at a small hospital a short drive away and Mitchell works part time at a nearby animal shelter. It turns out that he has patience and an affinity for the abused, neglected animals that pass through its doors and they don't shy away from him. They've even adopted a Heinz 57 variety mongrel called Murphy who follows Mitchell around the house with blind devotion. Elizabeth finds it sweet and Mitchell finds it vaguely irritating but deep down he likes it. All Murphy requires is a bit of love, attention and patience, he doesn't take or demand or judge, he just loves him, the daft mutt.

* * *

She parks her beat up old Fiesta outside of the house and gets out. It's a day like this one that she enjoys the most. The sky is pure blue, there isn't a cloud up there, and not a breeze to be felt and the sun beats relentlessly down on her. She has the next couple of days off and she's looking forward to not having to rush around. She goes to the back of the car and pops open the boot and begins to extract shopping bags. The house is silent and she checks her watch. Mitchell was out of the house at the crack of dawn so he's due back soon. She sighs and unloads the bags. She unlocks the front door and goes inside. It's blessedly cool and she smiles to herself.

She's in the process of unpacking the shopping. She hears the rumble of the Volvo engine and knows he's back from work.

"Hey" she turns her head when she hears his voice and she smiles when she sees him come into the kitchen, a couple of bags in each hand. She glances down when she hears the scratch of Murphy's claws on the tiled floor and smiles as he skirts around the table to wriggle a welcome at her. She reaches down and briefly scratches his ears before returning to the task at hand.

"Please tell me you bought beer" he comes to stand beside her and peeks into the bags already there. She sighs and extracts a bottle. He smiles.

"You're a star" he tells her and presses a quick kiss on her cheek. She turns her head and watches him leave the kitchen, whistling for Murphy to follow, which of course he does. She shakes her head and goes back to what she was doing.

They're almost domesticated, for a vampire and a human. They do okay apart from having to be watchful all the time and keeping under the radar.

Mitchell though still has the occasional nightmare. He still has periods of time when he seems to be lost in dark thoughts. He has the entire attic floor of the house, a massive space that takes up the whole of the top floor. All that it contains is a double bed, a wardrobe and a book case, all furnished from charity shops. She often hears the creaking of the floorboards as he paces. His screams still jolt her awake and there have been times when she's sat beside him on his bed as he's shivered and trembled. There have been times where she's lain beside him and listened to him whisper apologies, times when he's allowed her to simply hold him and comfort. He won't talk about Annie though.

She sighs and goes into the utility room to unload the rickety washing machine and hopes that it doesn't flood the floor again.

He's sitting on a sand dune a short walk away from the house. A breeze has kicked up and it tugs his hair away from his face. He lifts the beer bottle to his lips and takes a sip. Murphy is snuffling about nearby and he watches him with mild interest. Who would've thought that he'd have a dog at this time of his life? He half smiles to himself and shakes his head gently. He watches the dog give up on his investigations and come and curl up beside him. He reaches across and strokes his back.

"Want some company?" he lifts his head and squints at Elizabeth who is standing in front of him with a second beer bottle in her hand.

"Sure" he watches her lower herself down beside him.

"How was work?" she asks, taking a sip of her beer. He glances at her.

"Quiet. I think I made some headway with the German shepherd, he doesn't want to tear my fingers off every time I get near him"

"We're not taking him Mitchell, sounds like he'd traumatise poor Murphy for life" she tells him.

"He'd be a good guard dog"

"No. They cost a fortune to feed and we barely make enough between us as it is" she shakes her head.

"Anyway, how is Becky?" he looks at her and he frowns.

"How should I know?" he replies irritably and she smiles at him.

"She has the biggest crush on you…"

"She does not…does she?" she rolls her eyes.

"You can be so _blind_ sometimes…of course she does!" she nudges him with her elbow and he frowns.

"Shit" he curses. She smiles and takes another sip of beer.

"It's okay, she thinks we're a couple anyway" Becky is one of the animal shelter workers, she's just a kid but she watches Mitchell with stars in her eyes. He looks at her.

"Does she now?" He won't do anything to change that opinion, he thinks it's much safer to let her assume. He sighs raggedly.

"Have we heard from George recently?" he asks, changing the subject. She looks at him again and shakes his head.

"It's our turn to write I think, I'll get on to it tonight" It's no use asking Mitchell to do it, if she left it to him then there would never be any communication. He looks at her.

"Maybe…d'you think they'd visit if we ask them?" he watches her eyes widen in surprise.

"You know George would be on the next train if he could. He misses you" A wistful expression crosses his face and he looks out across the sand dunes. He won't admit it to her but he misses him too. She sighs quietly.

"I'm sure with careful organisation, we could do it"

"We should" he decides and she smiles to herself.

"We'd need to get one of the rooms in a decent enough condition first" He nods though secretly he does not love the idea of white emulsion and wallpaper paste in his hair again. It's George though; it'd be fantastic to see him again. His smile is faint.

* * *

They wait impatiently at the little train station. The train is late which is nothing new but Elizabeth watches how Mitchell paces and checks his watch almost constantly. The station isn't close to where they're staying at and there's at least an hour's car journey ahead of them. George had been overjoyed at the invitation and had immediately accepted. He also promised that he had a wonderful surprise for them so they were very curious to know what that could be.

Finally the train pulls into the station. Elizabeth watches how Mitchell fades into the shadows as passengers board and disembark. Finally, Elizabeth sees him and she walks towards him. He seems to be taking a while to get off the train.

"George?" she asks as she gets closer to him. He turns and Elizabeth's eyes go wide. She looks over her shoulder to where she knows Mitchell is standing. She looks back at George and sees Nina come into view.

"Oh my God George…Nina…" she breathes. She takes a step back as George slowly, carefully gets off the train.

"Elizabeth, we'd like you to meet Emily" he introduces and hands over the tiny pink bundle, gently placing her in her arms. Elizabeth's eyes are wide. Again she turns her head to see where Mitchell is and he's walking towards them now.

"What's this now?" he asks, coming to stand by Elizabeth's shoulder.

"Meet our daughter" George tells him and Mitchell's eyes almost treble in size.

"What…you never…said" he looks down at the sleeping face and then a soft smile crosses his face.

"Shit George…congratulations man!" Elizabeth takes a step sideways as he throws his arms around his best friend and hugs him tightly. He looks at Nina and reaches out and strokes her arm. Her answering smile is warmer, happier.

"It's really great news…wow…George…"

* * *

Nina is taking a nap and George is babysitting with Elizabeth in close attendance.

"He looks really good" George comments. Mitchell is on the beach, throwing a ball for Murphy.

"He is. He seems to be" she looks at him.

"Has anyone been asking about him?" George shakes his head.

"Not to my knowledge but then again, no one knows what we are" Elizabeth nods.

"I never thought I'd see the day that Mitchell would become an animal lover…his own dog, it's almost ironic" George chuckles and Elizabeth smiles.

"He brought Murphy home one day and they're glued at the hip, it's nice. He has a focus now and it's not on anything human and he's good at it"

"It is. How has he been…emotionally? I'm only asking you because he'll just give me his usual brand of bullshit"

"He's been good George; it's been good for him. He still has off days, nightmares that I don't think he'll ever be free of but he's happier here, more comfortable in his own skin"

"That's all I want for him" George sighs and Elizabeth has to agree.

**END.**


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